


The Mouse and The Rat

by undeclaredmilk



Series: The Mouse in the Ministry [1]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 03:18:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20753471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undeclaredmilk/pseuds/undeclaredmilk
Summary: This was originally a one-shot inspired by officialoperaghost's "library encounter" ficlet, and it just grew from there.The Mouse, a mute janitor working for the Ministry, makes a discovery in the library and hijinks ensue.





	1. Chapter 1

The Mouse cleaned the library every Thursday at 2 pm. It had been that way for several years, and would probably continue for quite a long time. She was eternally grateful to Sister Imperator for giving her such a trusted position, cleaning some of the most private rooms of the abbey, especially since she was just a kid at the time. Fresh out of school with absolutely no direction or ambition.

The librarian held the door for her as she struggled to drag her cleaning cart and the enormous, ancient vacuum into the library. They shared a smile and a fist bump before the librarian scuttled off to take a much-deserved break. Poor thing, The Mouse thought to herself often. Not only does she have to deal with the task of running the library itself, there’s no shortage of assholes that treat it like it’s their own dorm room. Hence, the need for a good uninterrupted deep-cleaning every week.

First things first, all books go on the carts. That’s how the librarian wants it, so she and her assistants can file everything. All papers left on any surface in the library go right into the garbage. It’s nobody else’s fault that you forgot it here, and too bad if it was your Latin homework. “Tough titty, said the kitty” The Mouse’s mom always told her. Many an afternoon, she’d unlock the library door at 3, and there would be some Sibling wanting to get something they left behind. She would gesture to the large trash can on her cart. They’d start to complain, but the look on her face demonstrating the complete lack of fucks she gave usually shut them up.

The Mouse had been doing this long enough, it was almost perfected to an art. Spray down the tables and chairs with disinfectant. Put the chairs on the tables. Then comes the real work. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and typed in her usual announcement. She hit “play” and a mechanical male voice boomed from the speaker.

“I am about to vacuum the library. It is very loud and will take a long time. You have 30 seconds to get out, or be locked in here for the next hour with me. Your choice.”

There have been a few times where a couple of giggling horndogs would come running out of the back stacks, but not today. The silence was almost oppressive, despite the size of the room, but there was work to be done. Plenty of time to think later. 

She plugged the cord into the outlet closest to the door, then flipped the switch on the handle. The giant silver monstrosity came to life like a jet engine, roaring and whining at a near-intolerable volume. It was hard to push at first, but once the wheels got going, it was easy to find the rhythm. Push, pull. Push, pull. Down one aisle, up the next. Going around corners was a bitch, so she would just use the hose attachment, instead of trying to make sharp turns with that dinosaur.

It only took about 20 minutes to get the bulk of the library vacuumed, and she briefly considered sitting down to rest her feet, until she looked towards the very back of the room. The mini maze of study areas and bookshelves was dark and gloomy, and she sighed. Imperator had actually lectured her the day before on not properly cleaning that back corner. “The amount of dust coming off my footsteps on the carpet was enough to give me a coughing fit. Unacceptable! It needs to be vacuumed just as much as the rest of the library.”

The Mouse’s shoulders sagged as she pushed the vacuum to the back area. There was only one table that needed wiping down, so she decided to leave that for absolute last. The vacuum rumbled to life once again, and the puffs of dust coming out of the carpet were nasty. She tried to pull the collar of her shirt up over her mouth and nose to keep from breathing it in, but it didn’t help.

She left the vacuum running as she turned to go get a mask from the cart, and she didn’t notice the tension on the cord. It was stretched almost to its limit, and instead of just stepping over it, she ended up tripping on it and falling to her knees. The plug came out of the wall, and the vacuum noise ceased, only to be replaced by another equally loud sound. 

It was moaning. Bordering-on-orgasmic moaning. Definitely a guy, but she didn’t recognize the voice. It only lasted a couple of seconds, then cut off as they realized the vacuum had stopped. She clenched her fists in annoyance. It’s not like I didn’t warn them, she fumed to herself. She silently got to her feet and moved quickly to catch the culprit before they could sneak away. There was frantic, muffled breathing coming from behind one bookcase, and she darted around the corner, pinning them in.

It was the Cardinal. His face was almost the same bright red as his cassock, his black-gloved hand covering his mouth. His other hand was obviously shoved into his pants, trying to stuff himself back in. He looked terrified and ashamed.

They stared at each other in the dusty silence for what seemed like forever. The Mouse honestly had no idea how to react. She’d met the Cardinal years ago, when she was still a kid and he was just a priest, but she could probably count the number of words he’d said to her on one hand. He kept to himself, mostly, to the constant aggravation of his superiors. 

The only real interaction they’d ever had was a few months earlier. A group of Siblings begged her to make a midnight run to the kitchen for snacks. She’d stuffed packages of cookies and chips into her shirt, and even managed to wedge a jar of salsa into the gore of her bra, before trying to sneak back into the dorms. She went around a corner and almost ran smack into Copia. They were both startled, and took a moment to catch their breath. Then he gently removed his biretta and held it to his chest, as he stepped aside and motioned for her to go. She smiled and bowed her head in acknowledgment, but before walking away, she pulled a small bag of cookies from her shirt and handed it to him. He let out a small giggle. “Yes, thank you” he barely whispered.

Now that she was standing there, having caught him obviously pleasuring himself, she had to ask herself: was this the first time? Has he done this before? Her eyes quickly glanced at the carpet in the corner where he was standing, and the faded stains told her everything she needed to know. If she’d bothered to clean it as often as she was supposed to, she would’ve noticed sooner. He’d been hiding there, making himself cum as he watched her clean. She didn’t find anything particularly arousing about the way she did it, but maybe there were a few times where her skirt hitched up a bit too far when she’d bend over the tables as she wiped them down…

Suddenly the idea of this weird, quiet man getting off to the sight of her working filled her stomach with butterflies. She was no virgin, far from it, but the idea of being the object of someone’s desires was both flattering and intoxicating. And it’s not like he was unattractive. The smattering of freckles across his face made him look boyish, despite the few strands of gray mixed amongst his reddish-brown hair. His mismatched eyes were wide in the black paint that surrounded them. He looked so scared, waiting to see her reaction.

She felt a pang deep in her chest. She wanted to comfort and reassure him, to let him know she wasn’t mad or offended. She had to tread carefully, or he would startle like a doe and run away. 

She quickly closed the gap between them, dropping to her knees in front of him. Her right hand came up to lift the cassock skirt, the other pushed his hand away to reach into his pants. She’d heard rumors and whispers from Siblings and ghouls alike that he was massively hung, and while it was impressive, she’d had bigger. She slowly pulled his half-hard cock from its confinement, carefully running her hand up and down its length. It twitched back to life, growing and reddening under her touch. 

She glanced up at the Cardinal, and he looked ready to die from shock. Who knows how many times he’d fantasized about this scenario, and now it was actually happening. Without looking away, she opened her mouth and tentatively licked at the drops of precum oozing from his slit. He drew a shuddering, gasping breath, mostly silenced by his hand. She lightly rubbed her tongue and lips all over the sensitive head, waiting for a sign that he wanted her to go further.

His eyes were heavy and clouded with lust, so she decided to get his attention. She quickly squeezed the base of his dick twice, and his eyes swam back into focus. Her eyebrows raised as if to say, “You want more?” He brought his right hand up to gently cup the back of her head, and slowly pushed it down.

She was disappointed in herself that she couldn’t fit more of him into her mouth, but she dutifully licked and sucked as best she could, her left hand continuously working the thick base. The moans and gasps escaping from behind his hand were music to her ears, and she tried her best to demonstrate her lack of gag reflex. She managed to relax her jaw enough, and when he finally hit the back of her throat, he muttered from deep in his chest, “Ohhhh, _fuck_.”

She smiled around his cock, satisfied with her work. The pulse throbbing in her mouth matched the one between her legs. She hoped he would be as generous with her as he had been with his previous partners. The ones in the Ministry that enjoyed discussing their exploits never had an unkind word to say about him, as far as carnal activities went. “Even if he gets off before you, he’ll take care of you, at least once or twice. He’s no quitter.”

Now that he felt more comfortable making noise in her presence, he moved his other hand down to the back of her head, carefully directing the angle of his thrusts into her mouth. His quiet grunts and moans were intoxicating, and only added to the wetness soaking through her underwear. The way his hips rolled and his thighs flexed was driving her insane. She’d never gotten off by going down on someone else, but she figured there was a first time for everything.

His grip on her head suddenly tightened, and he pulled her off his cock completely. She looked up at him in bewilderment. He didn’t seem like he was getting too close, was she not doing something right? Did he change his mind? She continued to work him with her hand, sticking her tongue out and letting the underside of the head rub on it. If he came suddenly, she didn’t want to be surprised and end up having a mess on her shirt.

He let go of her head, moved his hands under her arms and hoisted her up to standing in one solid movement. She was a tad frightened by how strong he was, but it was quickly replaced by desire. She was more than willing to let him do whatever he wanted to her. He brought a hand to her face, stroking her cheek with his gloved thumb. She turned her face into his touch, rubbing it against the soft leather. 

They took a moment to catch their breath, and then Copia’s eyes flashed to the study table a few feet away. The Mouse didn’t need to be told twice. She walked over to it, moving the chair out of the way, but instead of boosting herself onto it, she reached under her skirt. Copia’s breathing quickened as he watched her slowly work her underwear from under her skirt, down her thighs, until they became visible around her knees. Her scent filled the air, and he let out an obscene moan.

Apparently that surprised him, because he closed his mouth so fast, his teeth clacked together. She looked up and silently laughed at his self-consciousness. His cheeks flushed as he watched her attempt to untangle her underwear from around her shoes, finally bending down to pull them off himself. He bundled the small wad of cotton in his hand, and looking up into her eyes, brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply. His whole body shuddered as he exhaled.

The ravenous look in his eye left The Mouse light-headed, and her hands scrabbled for the edge of the table behind her. She gathered her skirt up to her waist and carefully hopped onto the table, the surface cool against her overheated skin. Copia rose, moving to stand between her open legs. He quickly tore off his gloves, sending them flying. He then removed his fascia, and began unbuttoning his cassock from the waist down.

She patiently sat on the edge of the table, lightly kicking her feet back and forth while she waited for him to undress enough. Once he was done with the cassock, he unfastened his belt and fly, pushing his pants halfway down his thighs and letting his cock bob free from restraint. She noticed he wasn’t wearing any underwear, and she wondered just how dirty he really was deep down.

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her almost off the edge of the table. They each angled their pelvises just enough so they could make contact, the smooth tip of his cock gliding along her wet flesh. The teasing only made her more wet, and now it was her turn to gasp and let out shaky exhales. Her useless vocal folds rattled and gurgled in her throat. She’d never wished to have her voice back more than right now. She desperately needed him to hear how he was making her feel, what he was doing to her. Nothing to be done about it now. Just have to work with what you’ve got.

Her palms were getting sweaty, and her hands started to slip on the table. She clutched at Copia’s pellegrina to keep from losing her balance backwards. Their faces were suddenly dangerously close, and they just stared at each other’s lips, each waiting for the other to make a move. Copia finally broke the tension with two words.

“Kiss me.”

And she did. A surprisingly chaste kiss, considering the situation, but her heart surged and her blood roared in her ears as though it was the most passionate kiss in creation. He let out the tiniest of whimpers as she pulled away. She smiled at him, smoothing down a few strands of his hair that were sticking up. The gesture seemed to spark something in him, because he suddenly pulled her close, covering her lips with his own. 

The intense pressure of his mouth, the tickling of his mustache, and the soft probing of his tongue were enough to rob her of her breath. If this is what it meant to swoon, she could see why women in the past enjoyed it so much. He tasted like spiced tea and…chocolate? He did take that package of cookies as hush money once, he must have a wicked sweet tooth.

She was so captivated by his kisses, she didn’t even notice that he’d dug his fingers into both of her thighs and was holding them apart. The entire length of his cock was pressed against her, and she could feel it twitching in time with his pulse. He broke the kiss in order to catch his breath, then released his grip on her left leg, moving his hand between them. He pressed his tip against her, just barely entering, looking to her for permission. She nodded her head frantically, and he pressed forward.

He glided halfway inside her with ease, sighing deeply. After only a few gentle thrusts, The Mouse was already almost overwhelmed. The texture and girth of his cock was amazing, but the angle was too much to take. Every stroke was dragging against her g-spot, and in addition to the intense pressure, it was just too much, too soon. Not wanting to discourage him, she lowered herself down until she was flat on her back on the table. The angle improved, and so did her view of him. Eyes half-closed, his lower lip pinned between his teeth, watching his cock steadily thrusting into her, the swell of his pudgy lower belly barely bumping against her clit. The more he fell apart, the more gorgeous he looked.

A hand was suddenly pawing at her chest, and it took her a moment to realize he was trying unsuccessfully to unbutton her shirt one-handed. She gently shoved his hand away and started undoing it herself, opening it just enough so the cups of her bra were visible. The same hand snaked into one cup, then the other, kneading at her breasts and lightly pinching her nipples. The other remained in the crook of her hip, pinning her to the table. 

Each touch sent shocks of pleasure through her, as though his fingertips were electrified. She was already uselessly tossing her head back and forth, frantically scrabbling to find something to hold onto. She’d had plenty of partners before this, but it had been quite a while since someone had made her come undone so quickly, and she didn’t think she’d be able to stand it much longer. She reached up to clutch at one of Copia’s sleeves, but he caught her hand in his. He guided it down between them, just above where they joined. 

“Show me,” he insisted. She forgot how to breathe for a second. The fact that he wanted to see how to pleasure her brought back the butterflies in her stomach. She started to stroke the needy flesh, just the way she liked, and the wave that was building inside grew exponentially. Her legs instinctively moved back, the heels of her shoes squeaking on the table’s surface as they dug in.

Copia watched her closely, timing his strokes to match hers. “Th-tha-that’s i-it, yes…” Both began moving faster, chasing their own respective releases.

The Mouse realized she’d completely lost track of time. It felt like they’d been fucking for hours, but it was too good and she was too close to stop now. Her fingers moved faster, the delicious pressure spreading through her entire body, yet Copia maintained his steady pace. She tried to move her hips faster against him, but he gripped them even tighter, holding them still. He seemed determined to ensure she got hers first. Not a quitter, indeed.

Her orgasm took her completely by surprise, her pelvis lifting clear off the table. She grabbed the edge, her nails digging tiny lines into the polished wood. It felt earth-shattering, every nerve ending firing at once, as her legs shuddered and her body convulsed, her jaw locked open in a silent scream. Copia’s moans grew louder as her muscles clenched and gripped him, either unaware or uncaring of how much noise he was making. 

Still coming down, she grabbed the fabric of his sleeves, pulling him down to her. He managed to climb onto the table, his thrusts pushing her further and further back, until he could get his lower legs up completely. His thrusts went even deeper than before, as he gathered her in his arms, grunting and panting directly into her ear. She managed to work a hand under the cassock to knead and squeeze his ass, egging him on even more. 

“F-fuck, fuck I’m so-_sweet Lucifer_…I’m gonna c-cum, _please_, can I-?” She nodded, smoothing the hair from his sweaty forehead so he could see her response. His expression softened with gratitude, and she wondered how many times he’d been told “no”. He locked eyes with her, his moans growing deeper and his thrusts more frantic, until suddenly they almost stopped, and his moans turned into soft whimpers. She could feel the hot pulsing of his cum, and she smiled contentedly at him. His face flushed even deeper, all the way to the tips of his ears, but he didn’t look away. 

His arms began to shake as he finished, and he let his head drop into the crook of her neck. She gently pet his hair and rubbed soothing circles on his back as he caught his breath. Then, she did something the doctors told her to _never _attempt again.

“Thank you,” she hoarsely whispered into his ear. “Such a good boy.”

He gasped and pushed himself back up. She quickly put a finger to her lips to shush him, her throat now sore from the effort. He nodded earnestly, then placed a tender kiss to her lips. 

Suddenly, the real world came crashing down on her. What time was it? What if it’s after 3, and the librarian unlocks the door and finds them there? What if Imperator finds out? More importantly, she’d just fucked a senior member of the Clergy. That always comes with consequences, good and bad. You either get preferential treatment, or sent halfway across the planet. She didn’t want either, so she thought it best to just brush it off. A one-time thing, that’s all.

Copia managed to climb off the table and was rooting around in his pants pocket for something. His hand emerged with what looked like a white handkerchief. He quickly folded it into a somewhat square shape, and stuck it between her legs. She looked down in confusion, then back up to see him trying to pull his pants up the rest of the way as he waddled out into the main library. 

You’re fucking kidding me, she thought. He’s just gonna leave? 

There was a clanking sound coming from her cart. Great, she thought. Not only did he cut and run, but now he’s gonna tip over my stuff and I’ll be cleaning that up for the rest of the day. 

She scooted to the end of the table, and was about to remove the cloth When Copia reappeared. He was holding two of her soft cleaning cloths from the cart, one he’d apparently just used on himself. He shuffled back over to her, motioning for her to lie back again. She did, and he gently removed his handkerchief, disposing of it in a nearby trash can. He carefully cleaned her off with the other cloth, making sure not to irritate her swollen flesh. Once he was satisfied with his work, he offered a hand to help her down. As she was searching for her underwear, he wiped down the surface of the table as well.

She gave him a strange look. He blushed and gave her the tiniest of smiles. 

“My mess. You shouldn’t have to clean that.”

Once they’d sufficiently put themselves back in order, The Mouse went back to the vacuum cleaner, determined to finish cleaning the godforsaken back area. Copia politely excused himself back to his office, sweaty and slightly worse for wear. After he’d left, she checked her phone for the time. Only 10 minutes had passed?! She thanked her lucky stars and went back to vacuuming.

When the librarian came back at 3, she had a peculiar look on her face. “Was it really dusty back there?”

“A bit,” The Mouse typed into her phone. “But I put a mask on, so it wasn’t a problem.”

“Huh. I’m just wondering because…you know…”

“What?”

“Your shirt isn’t buttoned right.”

** _Goddamnit._ **

* * *

After showering off all the dust and sweat, The Mouse went down to dinner. As she waited her turn in line, one of the kitchen staff came up with a tray, pushing the server aside. 

“Here,” she cooed. “This one is just for you.” She handed it to The Mouse with a wink, and disappeared back into the kitchen.

The food looked just like everybody else’s, but there was something under the edge of the plate. A piece of paper. Once she sat down, she took it out and unfolded it.

“My room. Tonight. C.”

_ **Well, shit.** _


	2. Chapter 2

“Why me?” The Mouse wrote on the notepad, turning to show Copia. He scratched at his head and shrugged.

“Don’t give me that. You’d been watching me for a while. Why?”

He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “You…are quiet. Like me. But…you can go unnoticed. I cannot. Someone is always wanting to talk to me, or show me things, or give me work, and I can’t hide. You slip into shadows and disappear whenever you like. That’s why Imperator and the Papas like having you around. Their own little spy.”

“I’m not a spy.” She stuck her tongue out at him and giggled. He pulled her closer and nuzzled his nose in her hair. 

“I can’t hear that but I can feel it. I like your laugh.”

* * *

After curfew, she went to his room, as requested. He’d been waiting patiently for her, but once she arrived, his patience suddenly vanished. He made quick work of their clothes, leaving them dangling haphazardly from almost every surface. In no time, she was grinding on his face (his request) until her legs shook and she could no longer hold herself up. She barely had time to recover before he laid her down on the bed and entered her, holding her close. 

He told her he had every intention of fucking her for hours, maybe all night if possible. He’s gotta be joking, she thought to herself. She quickly discovered just how wrong she was. Now that they had plenty of time, and no chance of being interrupted, he could take her the way he wanted. 

His thrusts were slow and deep, and he moaned softly in her ear with each one. He told her how crazy her scent made him, how badly he’d wanted to taste her, that his dinner didn’t even taste good because that was all he could think about. He thanked her for letting him cum inside her earlier, and described just how fucking nice it felt. It was all too much: how his words affected her, how his cock throbbed inside her, how his ass flexed under her hands with each lazy stroke. 

She rapidly tapped on his shoulder, and when he lifted his head, there were tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “You need to stop?” She nodded. “Of course, absolutely. Let me get you some water.” Once his body weight was off of her, the sweat started to cool quickly, and she shivered. In an instant, he was back from his bathroom with a glass of water, and covered her with an extra blanket. “This ok?” She nodded again. “Thank you,” she mouthed to him.

He moved to get up, and she grabbed his arm. She gave him a look of confusion. “You…want me to stay?” She pushed him down onto his back and crawled up to lay her head on his chest. His heart was still pounding, but she loved the way it sounded, and the way the fine hairs on his chest tickled her nose. 

She wanted to ask him something, but her phone was probably on the floor somewhere, so she mimed writing in the air. “You want to write something? I think I have a notepad in my drawer.”

* * *

“Don’t tell anybody that I can still whisper. They’ll expect me to do it all the time, and it really hurts.”

“Then why did you do it?”

She shrugged, and her cheeks pinked. “It was really good. I didn’t want to just smack you on the ass and give you a thumbs up.”

He let out a rather loud chuckle. “Well…I suppose that’s better than the usual reaction. Most my partners can’t wait to get away from me.”

She felt sad for him. Celebrating lust doesn’t require post-coital snuggles, but basic respect should be a given.

“Hey.” He tipped her chin up towards him. “Why sad face?”

“It’s not right. You try your best, they don’t have to be jerks.”

He shrugged. “Not important. Everybody gets what they want.”

“What do _you_ want?”

He looked at her for a moment before plucking the pen and paper from her hands, and setting them on the nearby table. Pulling her even closer, he whispered, “Is this ok?” She answered with a kiss, moving her hand down to his lower back and pressing his body against hers. His cock quickly began to harden against her thigh, and she slid her hand between them to grasp it.

“I want this,” she mouthed.

* * *

This time was different. He followed her lead, only moving forward when she showed interest. She was mostly content to stroke him with one hand, while the other explored all over his body. The thick, strong muscles of his thighs, the broad expanse of his back, but mostly his ass. She was never that interested in men’s asses, but she just couldn’t get over his. Perfectly round and moldable, like really nice bread dough. It didn’t take long before she wanted to feel it flexing like before, and she rolled onto her back to give him access.

Copia nearly bottomed out on his first thrust, she was so wet and ready. “Fuck, you take me so well…” He buried his face in her neck as his movements slowed, and she tangled her hands in his hair. It took a couple of minutes before he could build back up to his previous pace, exhaling shakily against her neck. “That was close,” he chuckled. “Would’ve been embarrassing.”

She made a face and shook her head. “No,” she mouthed, and kissed the tip of his nose. “Cute.”

“Heh. I’ll show you cute.”

It didn’t take long for them to be covered in sweat, the sound of Copia’s deep moans punctuated by soft, languid kisses. The Mouse’s hands clutched desperately at his sheets, at his back, as she tried to raise her hips in time with his thrusts. Her orgasm wasn’t going to catch her by surprise this time; it felt like it had been building forever, radiating out in waves from the center of her brain. Every muscle quivering and stretched to its limit, her gasps echoing off the walls, she gripped Copia tightly to her. She didn’t even realize that he’d stopped moving, and was simply grinding his hips in a circle while fully sheathed in her. 

“Fuck-fuck-_yes_,” he growled as his pelvis swiveled. He seemed to be reveling in how good her spasms felt along his entire length. His own orgasm followed quickly, his screams muted as he buried his face in her shoulder. She gently played with the hair at the back of his neck as he came down, her cheek pressed to his sweaty forehead.

* * *

“Exclusive?” she wrote after they disentangled and Copia handed the notepad back to her.

He shrugged and looked down, trying way too hard to look casual about it. “I mean…if you want. It’s cool with me.”

She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “Yes or no,” she whispered, coughing at the strain on her throat.

“Stop that!” His eyes grew wide, and he flailed helplessly trying to find the glass of water he brought for her earlier. She laughed hoarsely and climbed onto his lap, grabbing his hands and holding them to her chest. She refused to let him move until he looked at her.

He had a difficult time looking her in the eye. “Well….I have a confession to make. I wasn’t completely honest earlier.”

She loosened her grip on his hands and got ready to move. Depending on what he said next, she might be leaving sooner than she thought.

“That mini disco party the Siblings put on a few months ago…I spent part of it hiding behind some speakers. I saw you dance.”

She thought back to that night. She had way more to drink than she usually had at parties, but she didn’t want to be stiff and self-conscious. It was supposed to be a fun night with loud music and drunk ghouls attempting to dance. She ended up dancing with a very talented unaspected ghoul, and ended up leaving with him as well.

“Ok. You watched me dance at a party. So what?”

He started blushing again, all shy like he hadn’t cum in her multiple times that day. After a few moments, he finally found the courage to speak. 

“You were…so free…and happy. Terrible things have happened to you. You are, to be honest, disabled. But at that party….it didn’t matter to you. It never seems to matter to you. It’s amazing.”

She stuck out her bottom lip a bit and smiled at him. “Do you like me, Copia?”

His face got even redder, and she had to turn her head so he wouldn’t see her laugh.

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because you’re fucking precious. If you want it to be just us, I’m ok with that.”

There was no reaction on his face. He just grabbed her head and pulled her down into a fiery kiss. 

“Ready for another round?”


	3. Chapter 3

The Mouse woke up before dawn and nearly catapulted out of bed. It had taken her a few seconds to realize she wasn’t in her room, and she panicked. She waited for her heart to stop pounding before she looked next to her.

There was Copia, dead to the world, his mouth slightly open. His black makeup was washed off, and he just looked like a normal person, breathing deeply in his sleep.

She carefully slinked off the bed, and dressed in the dark. She needed to get back to her dorm, get showered and dressed, and get to work. If she was late, Nihil would worry. If he worried, he would mention it to Imperator. If she knew The Mouse was late for work, there would be questions. “What were you doing that was more important than your job?”

A member of the High Clergy, she thought to herself. Maybe she’d like to see the stained sheets as proof.

She managed to get to Nihil’s rooms just in time to hear his morning coughing fit.

“Ah! Good morning, Topolino. And how is today looking?" 

She smiled and waved her hand back and forth. _So-so._

“I know what you mean. Some days I just don’t want to get out of bed, but-what happened to your neck?”

She looked confused, and as realization dawned on her, she tried her best to play dumb. She tipped her head to the side. _What do you mean?_

“A mark, on your neck,” he said, pointing to the right side, right at the edge of her collar. “Looks like a bruise?”

She put her hand against the mark and pretended to sleep, as though she’d caused the mark herself by accident.

“Ah, I see. You know…” He leaned closer to her. “If that is from _un amante_, you don’t need to hide it. Just make sure they don’t break skin, yes?”

_Please, Satan. Take me now._

* * *

During her lunch break, she managed to find the Sister that was particularly skilled at makeup, especially cover-ups. 

She pulled aside the collar of her shirt and raised her eyebrows. _Got anything to cover this?_

The Sister exhaled heavily. “Yeah, but I’d definitely try something cold on it after dinner tonight. That sucker’s dark. Did you fuck an octopus last night?”

They both laughed, but The Mouse really just wanted to crawl into her bed and hide. If anybody knew it was Copia, she’d never hear the end of it.

After dinner, she went straight to her room, with a bag of ice and a spoon. Apparently, the cold spoon method was considered the best amongst Siblings. The ghouls didn’t give a shit if they were covered in hickeys or bite marks. Sometimes, they would stroll into the dining hall, walk up to a table, and just drop their pants. “Look at what I got last night!”

She alternated between soaking the spoon in the ice and holding against her neck while reading, when she heard the faintest of knocks on her door. She honestly couldn’t think of anybody that would bother her that time of night, until she remembered the conversation from the previous night. The word “exclusive” was used. And she said yes.

_Ohh, no._

She opened the door and her suspicions were confirmed. It was Copia, sans cassock, looking somewhat sheepish. “Hello,” he said, with a hint of hopefulness in his voice. She opened the door the rest of the way, and turned to set her spoon down. Before she could show him the mess he left on her neck, he was on her. He was practically smothering her with kisses, his hands randomly grasping at her.

“I missed you,” he whispered roughly. “All I could think about was seeing you tonight.” 

She wanted to tell him to slow down, that they couldn’t do this every night, but once his hand found its way under her skirt, thinking became useless.

In seconds she was on her bed, stripped down to just her bra, Copia’s face buried between her thighs. He eagerly devoured her, and within a few minutes, brought her to a whimpering orgasm. And another. And another.

The night became a haze of kisses and moans, his body weight pressing her into the bed, a delicious soreness between her legs as he fucked her steadily for hours.

She couldn’t understand the magnetism of this weird man. Was it something physical, like the way his cock curved perfectly inside her, or the way his tongue lapped at her clit? Or was it something unseen and unspoken, the knowledge that he was so weak for her, had pined for her but never imagined he could ever approach her?

At some point she woke up, not even realizing she’d fallen asleep, because her nose itched. She reached a hand up and accidentally poked Copia right in the ribs. 

She raised her head and looked around, confused. They were still in her room, somehow sharing her single bed, and she’d fallen asleep on his chest. 

“Are you ok?”

She reached across him for her phone, and he handed it to her.

“You won’t get any asleep in here with me. You should go back to your own bed.”

He smoothed her hair from her face and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’m fine right here.”

“No, you’ve got Mass tomorrow night, you need your sleep.”

“So I’ll take a nap if I need one. You can come wake me up. Like Sleeping Beauty.” He chuckled.

She nuzzled her nose into his chest hair, breathing deeply. He smelled faintly sweaty, but also of soap and incense and his own personal scent. No wonder she fell asleep on him, he was the most comfortable pillow she’d ever had.

“Then don’t blame me if you’re all stiff in the morning.”

“I will definitely be stiff in the morning. Just not in that way.”

* * *

It took some time, but eventually The Mouse got Copia to calm it down a bit. It got more and more difficult to get work done with bruised knees and sore hips, and she couldn't keep her neck completely covered at all times.

"Unless you're going to help me with cleaning," she typed on her phone, "you need to cool off. Of course I'd fuck you every night if I could, but it's affecting my work. Which is more important?" 

He actually stopped to consider the question, and she flicked his biretta off of his head.

She was also allowed to finally enter his office, and discovered why she wasn't allowed to clean it. He'd been feeding the few rats that were smart enough to avoid traps and poison, and he didn't want her to be disgusted, or worse, report it to Imperator.

"She would insist on having my office irradiated, or...whatever, just to get rid of them. They're smart, and very cute, don't you think?"

"As long as they don't bite me or poop on me," she typed, "I don't care."

* * *

In order to avoid any more potential sleepover disasters, The Mouse started taking her afternoon breaks in Copia's office. Sometimes on the desk, but usually in his chair. He would look up at her as she bounced in his lap, a mixture of awe and lust in his eyes. The creases in his forehead would deepen, and his lower tip would tremble.

"Please...._please_...." he would whimper.

"'Please' what?" she would sign, acting coy.

"Please....kiss me."

"Why?" She wasn't trying to be contrary, she was genuinely curious.

"I...I n-need to feel you, your skin...your lips on mine. Please..."

She leaned in and kissed him, in the same way as the first time. Sweet and simple, gently sucking on his bottom lip. The way he grabbed her and crushed her to his chest, you'd think she had devoured his tongue. Whenever she kissed him that way, it drove him insane. It was completely unfair, because his reaction only turned her on more. He grabbed her ass with both hands and roughly thrust up into her, knocking the air out of her lungs. 

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," she mouthed, as her orgasm tore through her. So fucking unfair, she thought. He knew all the buttons to push now, how to make her unravel in record time. He was easy. Sometimes all she had to do was walk into the room and smile, and he would shift his hips, his tell that he was getting hard.

She let her body go limp, her head resting on Copia's shoulder as he chased his own end. His thrusts grew sloppier, his groans louder and louder, his fingers digging into her ass as he dragged her back and forth on his dick.

"Yesyesyesyesyesy-oh-oh-oh-_oh baby yes_," he cried as his cock erupted inside her. He rested his forehead against her chest as he tried desperately to catch his breath. The Mouse buried her nose in his hair, reveling in his comforting scent. She couldn't help but chuckle to herself. He called her "baby".

"What..what's so funny?" he panted. 

She pointed at him.

"I'm funny?"

"You're cute," she signed. The way he smiled up at her brought back that familiar butterfly feeling, and she had to force it away. Try not to get attached, she reminded herself. He'll lose interest soon enough.

* * *

One night, on her way to dinner, someone from the kitchen crew was waiting for her in the dining hall doorway. They handed her a note. "I'm supposed to give this to you."

She was about to sign "what is it" but they had already walked away. She unfolded the paper.

_"Dinner in my room._

_C."_

She sighed in exasperation. She was fucking hungry, and he wants sexytime during dinner? Fine.

She stomped all the way to his room, and was not gentle in knocking on the door. It opened, and she barged in, not bothering to wait for him to say hello.

It was not at all what she was expecting.

The furniture was all moved back against the wall, in order to make room for a small table and two chairs in the center. The table was covered with a simple cloth, a few small candles in the center, flanked with two wine glasses. A cart from the dining hall sat nearby, two domed dishes and a small basket of bread on top. 

She stood for a moment, throughly confused, before turning around. Copia closed the door behind her, a bottle of wine in one hand, a corkscrew in the other. 

"Sorry, I..erm...not good with surprises," he chuckled. He set the bottle and corkscrew down on the table, holding her chair out for her. She sat down cautiously, not taking her eyes off him.

"What is this?" she signed.

He paused while uncorking the wine. "It's...dinner? Perhaps dessert?"

She gave him an exasperated look. "Yes, but why?"

He set the cork down on a side table and began pouring wine into their glasses. "It's one month today. Since the library."

She thought hard for a moment. It had been a Thursday, today was a Thursday. 3 Thursdays had passed. She pulled out her phone and typed, "Yeah, I guess it is. You didn't have to do all this, though."

He turned to set the bottle on the cart and picked up one of the dishes. "Maybe I wanted to....spend time with you that didn't involve ripping clothes off. We don't even have to talk. We can just eat a meal together, drink some good wine. What do you think?"

Her face flushed as she smiled and gave a little nod. This was, like, an actual date. She'd never been on one before, at least not officially. Her nerves sent a small tremor through her, and she took a sip of wine to steady them.

Copia set the dishes on the table, and whisked the domed covers off with a flourish. On each plate sat a perfectly-shaped pile of pasta, topped with cheese and black pepper. The Mouse had never had the dish, but she instantly knew what it was: cacio e pepe. A traditional pasta dish with only 3 ingredients, but it's surprisingly easy to fuck up. This looked perfectly done, and she knew it wasn't the kitchen crew that made it. This took time and patience, neither of which they have in large quantities.

"You...made this? For us?"

Copia grinned sheepishly, blushing to the tips of his ears, as he placed his napkin in his lap. "I didn't want to trust it to the kitchen staff. It would've been mushy spaghetti with canned Parmesan that comes mixed with sawdust. It needed to be done right, and now I owe favors to more than half of them. They don't like anybody else using their equipment."

"It looks really good. I almost don't want to eat it and ruin such a nice plate."

"Please," he gestured to her plate. "I would like you to try it first. If it is terrible, I can leap from the window instead of tasting my own disappointment."

She laughed silently as she twisted the strands of pasta on her fork. Copia anxiously twisted his napkin so hard she could hear it creaking. She placed the fork in her mouth, slurping up a straggler of spaghetti.

It was probably the best pasta she'd ever had. She didn't have the vocabulary to describe how it tasted, but the look on her face said it all.

"I love it!" she signed, immediately grabbing her fork for another bite. Copia's face lit up, opening his mouth to say something, but he seemed to change his mind at the last second, so he picked up his fork instead. "I am very glad to hear that."

The pasta was strangely filling, and the wine was paired well. After she took her last bite, The Mouse dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. "I think I'm going to explode," she signed happily.

Copia chuckled. "Please don't die just yet. There's still dessert." He went back to the cart and opened a container on the second shelf. Inside were two small plates, each holding a serving of tiramisu.

Her jaw dropped. "Did you make that too?!" she typed. 

He nodded. "I am very much in debt to the kitchen staff now."

"I don't know if I can eat anymore..."

He gave her his best puppy dog eyes. "Could you please just try it? Would be a shame to let it go to waste."

She took a deep breath and sighed in resignation. She couldn't resist when he made that face, and he knew it. His face broke into a satisfied grin. "Good!"

Once the tiramisu was gone, and the bottle of wine emptied, The Mouse was tipsy and stuffed to the gills. She leaned back in her chair, staring at the candle reflections on the ceiling. 

"Happy?" Copia asked. She tipped her head down to look at him, her eyes a bit swimmy. She smiled and nodded. "You?"

He returned her smile, but it was tinged with sadness, and he took a deep breath. A cold chill went up her spine, and she started to feel sick to her stomach. Of course he'd planned something for this "anniversary". It was a nice, polite way of saying, "That was fun, but we're done here." Her heart started pounding in her ears, and she clenched her hands so tight, her nails dug painfully into her palms. She couldn't understand why she was freaking out over this, it wasn't like she hadn't received that news from other partners before. This time...this was going to hurt.

She snapped out of her thoughts when he started to speak. "I....yes. I am happy. I wanted to take the opportunity to express...how much I've enjoyed our time together." He thought for a moment, then drained the last of the wine in his glass. "However...I know you have a reputation for....playing the field, shall we say? I understand if you..." He seemed to be struggling with the words. "If you would like to end this...arrangement...I will not stop you. You are free to do as you please. But...I _hope_-" His words caught in his throat, and he took a moment to compose himself.

She couldn't take it any longer. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and the thought of ending this was too much. She was on her feet so fast, the chair tipped over backwards. Before Copia could react, she straddled him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him deeply. 

When they broke away to take a breath, she quickly unbuttoned her shirt and placed his hand between her breasts, over her heart. It was still pounding, and she wanted him to feel it. 

"Does-do you want to stay?" He looked as though he honestly thought she wanted to end things between them, and was confused as to why she hadn't left yet.

She placed a gentle kiss to his forehead, and took both his hands as she climbed off his lap, leading him towards his bed.

* * *

On a completely unremarkable day, The Mouse entered Papa III's rooms for their daily cleaning, and something was immediately off. The rooms appeared to be empty. Papa wasn't wandering around in his robe and pajama pants, there was no one in his bed. It was very strange, and she instantly felt like something was seriously wrong.

She heard the toilet in his bathroom flush, and out of instinct, she pressed herself against the wall. He exited the bathroom, fully dressed, and started pacing up and down the opposite wall, looking out the windows every few seconds. He seemed to be very wound up and upset, which was totally out of character for him. Usually he seemed to not have a care in the world, and here he looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

There was a knock at the door, and as he dashed to answer it, she took the opportunity to slip into his room and start changing out the linens. She could do that part very quietly, without attracting attention. 

"Gio! So good to see you, brother!" 

_Oh, Jesus._

Papa II. The Mouse had never liked him, was always terrified of him. As a child, when he gave sermons, she would hide her face against her mother, so she wouldn't have to look at those eyes.

He stepped into the room, removing his hat and setting it on a nearby table; his smooth, bald head reflecting light off the surface. 

"Would you care for a drink?" Papa III was standing at his impressive liquor cabinet, attempting to place ice cubes into a heavy-bottomed glass. His hands were shaking, making it difficult to pick up the cubes. The Mouse ducked back out of sight. Papas are supposed to be strong and confident, not a quivering, anxious mess. She was genuinely worried for him now.

"Dante....are you all right?" Papa II asked. "Your hands, they never tremble like this."

III sighed. "No. I am not all right. I cannot sleep, I have no appetite. I even turned away a few beautiful Sisters that wished to worship with their Papa in private." He suddenly slammed his hand on the counter, rattling the glass bottles.

“What has you in such a state, _fratello_?”

“I go to Il Ratto’s office for those translated ritual texts. I hear him make noise like he’s fucking, and I look in. It…it was Topolino. She fucks him in his chair. I-I can’t believe…”

“Did he make her cum?”

“I think yes. She’s a terrible liar. That’s not the worst. He sees me over her shoulder and…smiles. _Stronzo_!”

“And this is upsetting you why?”

He fidgeted for a moment. “She is sweet. A plain flower whose scent is more intoxicating than the most beautiful rose.” He sighed. “Everyone wants Papa. His attention, his tongue, his cock. Except her. She listens to me, no matter what I say. Really listens. I want her to myself.”

“Does she know this?”

He looked down at his hands. “I never say anything. The time is never right.”

“So…let me understand this: you attempt to seduce the mute custodian by not saying how you feel, or asking how she feels, and you are upset because she fucks the Cardinal?”

“Well….when you put it that way-”

“You are hopeless and pathetic. Keep that up, and your time as leader will be short.”

“How am I pathetic? Because I lust for a woman?”

“Because you let it consume you. Your duties to the church are more important than any _puttana_-”

“How dare you-?!”

“Oh, please, little brother. Since the day she started here, she’s been sucking and fucking her way through both Siblings and ghouls. I’m simply calling a spade a spade.”

She risked looking through the door frame. III was sitting in a chair with his back to her, head in his gloved hands. II was standing in front of the fireplace, facing her. Looking right at her. 

Her eyes widened, but he gave no reaction. She knew he was right. She indulged in that particular sin a bit too much over the years, but as long as it didn’t interfere with her work, nobody cared. 

The silence was almost unbearable, and she didn’t dare breathe, or III would know she was there. The humiliation of asking his brother for advice and pouring his heart out would be nothing compared to discovering that she knew how he felt.

II sniffed dismissively and turned towards the desk. “Come here, brother. Let me show you something.” He put his hand on III’s shoulder and turned him to face the windows, then nodded his head slightly towards the door. She knew that was her cue. 

As silently as possible, she grabbed the heavy bag of linens, and holding it over her head, she quickly crossed the room to the door. II was busy lecturing his brother on the importance of their infernal work, and when he stopped to clear his throat, she turned the doorknob. It made the smallest of clicks as she closed it behind her.

She gently placed the bag on her cart, and pushed it toward the elevator at less than half her usual speed. The wheels tended to squeak, and she did not want to be found out due to a literal squeaky wheel. Once the cart was in the elevator, and the doors closed in front of her, she could finally breath normally again. 

Now what? she thought. Papa II is a cold-hearted prick, no surprise there, but Papa III is heartbroken and jealous. Who knows what he'll be capable of?

* * *

Papa II invited her to sit down in the chair across from his desk. She used her best posture and tried to keep all emotion from her face.

“You heard everything my brother said?”

She nodded.

He sighed wearily. “The way I see it, you have three options: give in to your Papa’s wishes, defy him and suffer his wrath…or run away.”

She clenched her fists tightly as she struggled to breathe. If she ran, where would she go? Home? Her parents were still considered important members of the church, they would turn her over in a heartbeat. If Copia was with her, she’d stand a better chance.

Copia. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. She’d never be able to convince him to leave with her. The church is practically everything to him. If she left without him, god only knows what Papa would do to him out of jealousy.

The idea of never seeing him again filled her with cold panic, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She gritted her teeth as hard as she could. She was not going to cry in front of Papa II. 

She exhaled slowly. “What would you suggest I do,” she typed into her phone. 

He didn’t flinch. “Obey your papa. Let him get it out of his system, he’ll move on to someone else.”

“And what about what I want? My free will? Say I don’t want to be Papa’s plaything for a night or a week or whatever. I’m not a Sibling, he can’t command me-”

Papa II stood up from the desk suddenly, and she shrank back in terror.

“He is the leader of your church, of which you are an employee. You will do as you are told, or you can leave.”

Now the tears came, hot and shameful down her cheeks. “You are no longer Papa. You can’t tell me what to do. I would rather die than become someone’s brood mare.”

The barest hint of a smile crossed his face. “Good. If you had given up that easily, you wouldn’t be half the woman I thought you were. Stand up to him. Disobey him. The brat prince needs to be put in his place on occasion.”

* * *

Copia sat hunched in his chair, absorbing everything The Mouse told him regarding the situation with Papa. His gloves creaked as he twisted his fingers together in his lap. 

“Well?” she signed, exasperated. “Say something!”

He continued to stare at his hands, while she fished her phone out of her pocket and began typing. “This is serious, and I’m fucking terrified, I don’t know who to trust, and you-”

“Stop taking your pills.”

She must not have heard him correctly. “What?”

“You take birth control pills, yes? Not a shot or implant?”

“Yeah.”

“Stop taking them. Immediately.”

She couldn’t wait to hear the explanation for this. “Why?”

He finally looked up at her, a mixture of despair and affection in his eyes. “You’d be surprised how fast a man will lose interest in a woman if she’s carrying another man’s child.”

She didn’t know what to think. Those women in the restricted wing were in a living hell, in her opinion. The idea of carrying a Papa’s child was almost too horrific to imagine. But this is Copia, not Papa. His children would be regarded highly, as descendants of a High Clergy member, but not to the same degree as a Papa’s child.

Besides, she cared about him, didn’t she? This was the closest thing to a relationship she’d ever had, the longest she’d stayed with one partner. Would it be so terrible to have a child with him? Only under one condition.

“The choice has to be mine. You can’t force me to.”

The crows’ feet around his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

That night, as she was getting cleaned up for bed, she opened her bathroom bag. The little plastic sheet of pills lay on its side, crammed in between pads and half-empty packs of tissues. She took it out and turned it over in her hands, inspecting how many were left before her next period. 

11\. If she didn’t take one tonight, she would get her period in 2 days. 5-7 days of that, then another week until ovulation. She could always go back to the infirmary and get another pack, claim she lost the previous one. She could back out at any time.

She yanked a few paper towels from the dispenser, wrapped the pack in them, then shoved the entire thing as far down into the garbage can as her hand could reach. Stepping back from the corner, she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors above the sinks. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she mouthed to herself.


	4. Chapter 4

_This is bullshit._

_Such total fucking bullshit._

_I can’t believe this. Completely and totally unfair._

_FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK_

The Mouse sat on her bed, punching the living daylights out of her pillow. She didn’t know the exact time, but it was late, middle-of-the-night late, and she couldn’t sleep.

_I’m so fucking stupid. Why am I like this?_

She’d already thrown the blankets off, and was now kicking her feet like a child having a tantrum over a toy.

_FUCKING FUCKING FUCK_

She covered her face with her pillow and bit down as hard as she could.

She was not happy. She was in love.

* * *

The next morning she trudged to the showers like an old man, exhausted and irritated. She kicked the door open, and winced when it slammed against the wall. Someone was gonna complain about that later. 

She did her best to be polite and appear normal while working, but inside she was a mess of anxiety, rage, and most embarrassingly, thoughts of Copia. She wanted to find something heavy, like a hammer, and repeatedly smack herself in the forehead with it. He was on her mind all day long, and she found it humiliating. 

Trying to straighten a sheet on a bed, and she'd think of how he would furrow his brow and bite his swollen bottom lip when she did something that felt good.

Wiping down the surface of Papa II's desk, while he supervises, and she could almost hear Copia's ridiculous laugh. She barely managed to stop herself from smiling.

The real fear came when it was almost time for lunch. What if he was eating lunch at the same time, and wanted her to sit with him, or take lunch back to his office? What if someone else wanted her to sit with them? She normally didn't give a shit what any of these people thought about what she did, but for whatever reason, the idea of having to justify doing anything with Copia in public terrified her.

She decided to be proactive, and headed to his office to see what his plans were. As per usual, he was up to his ears in work, and wasn't even going to bother eating lunch.

He cocked his head at her. "Why are you concerned with my lunch plans? Did you...want to eat with me?"

A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. "No, I was just...wondering what you were up to...that's all," she typed.

The corners of his mouth turned up just slightly, and he turned his chair towards her. "Are you sure that's all you wanted?"

_Goddamnit._

She closed his office door and approached him slowly. He looked up at her in anticipation, spreading his legs apart. She obediently dropped to her knees between them, gently palming his half-hard dick through his cassock. The reaction was immediate: he clutched the arms of his chair, gasping as he threw his head back.

No point in teasing him, she thought as she unzipped his pants. At least if her mouth was full, there was no chance of adding to her embarrassment any further.

* * *

She didn't bother going to see Copia during her off hour. He would be more than ready to go again, but she thought it might be best to limit their contact until she could sort her thoughts out. That meant a visit to the twins.

She stomped her feet as she entered the ghoul dorms, so she wouldn't catch any of them by surprise. They wouldn't allow her to clean in there because she was too quiet, and they couldn't take being startled over and over. It was like trying to tiptoe through a room full of cats. Disturb any of them, and there would be hissing and claws everywhere.

The brothers weren't actually twins, but they were similar enough in appearance to make one think they were. Black hair, mismatched eyes; one red, one blue, but opposite each other. They also had some form of empathic powers, complimentary to each other, like a yin-yang. Frost was stone-cold deaf, while Zero could still hear, and both taught The Mouse how to sign, over months and months of conversations. She probably spoke to them more than anybody else in the entire Ministry.

She walked into their room and flopped down onto one of the beanbag chairs in the middle of the room. They were busy watching tv and gave a non-committal wave in her direction, but Zero almost immediately turned to face her. "What's with all the negativity?" he signed. "You're just a mess in there."

The Mouse exhaled loudly, which only Zero heard. "I....I don't even know where to start," she signed.

"You're love-sick," Zero signed. Frost's head whipped around so fast, it almost seemed like his neck would break.

"WHAAAAAT??" He signed, an over-exaggerated look of shock on his face. "You?! In love?!" He pointed at The Mouse, who was ready to strangle his thin little neck.

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Why?" Zero signed. "Nobody knows what we're saying, remember?"

_Oh. Yeah._

"Sooo....who is he? Or her. Not assuming." Frost asked.

The Mouse dug the palms of her hands into her eyes and kicked her feet. "I don't want to say. I can't. That makes it real, and I don't want to think about how you're going to look at me once you know."

Zero tapped her shoulder so she would look at him. "Not a Papa?"

Her face contorted in disgust.

"Ok, so that's a 'no'?"

Frost nudged his brother with an elbow, then signed something that The Mouse couldn't clearly see. By the look on Zero's face, it couldn't have been good.

"No! Not The Rat!"

She leapt off the beanbag, and the brothers recoiled in fear.

"NOT ONE FUCKING WORD FROM EITHER OF YOU."

Frost looked confused. "What's the big deal? He seems nice, just quiet and really, really awkward."

"I'M. NOT. FUCKING. WEAK." The look in her eyes, and the way her hands formed the signs gave only a small indication of her boiling rage.

Now it was Zero's turn to be confused. "You...think being in love makes you weak?"

The Mouse leaned down so they were eye-to-eye. "When I was down in the pit...covered in blood and dirt, with a steel rod through my neck, the EMT's just kept telling me, 'Be strong, you'll be ok.' Every time I started to cry, they'd yell at me to stop, to stay strong. After every surgery, every procedure to keep me from choking on my own spit, that was all I heard. 'Be strong. Don't cry. Stop getting worked up. You're only going to make things worse.' A few years of hearing that, and it just turned off. I healed, and felt nothing. It was the only way to get through it all.

Now...it's like scar tissue. It will tear and bleed and hurt, and....I can't do it. There won't be enough of me to stitch back together. Whatever's left will be...too weak...and it won't hold."

Frost touched her shoulder, turning her to face him. "Are you talking about your throat, or something else?"

She didn't have an answer for him.

Zero patted the other side of her face, so she would turn back to him. "Does he love you too?"

She rolled her eyes. "Possibly. Never asked."

"Then you should tell him, as soon as you can. Find out where he stands. If he doesn't feel the same, it'll be like ripping off a bandage. Stings for a second, then fades quickly, and you can get back to burying your emotions in sarcasm and random sexual encounters."

That last comment stung a bit, but she quickly recovered. "They're not really random, just rotating. Gotta let everybody have a shot, you know?"

* * *

The next time she saw Copia, he was not in a talking mood. They hadn't had sex in over a week; between her period and a sudden increase in his workload, there just wasn't an opportunity. He seemed determined to make up for lost time, so she thought it would be nice to let him have his new favorite position. He sat on the bed, his feet under him, with her splayed out in front of him on her back. He held her upper thighs tightly, the angle allowing him to fuck her deeply, his hands occasionally roaming over her sides and up to her breasts.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the position; in fact, she loved it. They could watch each other fall apart, and she could touch herself, which he loved to see. Her problem was that the earlier conversation with the ghoul twins would not get out of her head. 

"You're lovesick."

"You should tell him."

Her head tossed uselessly back and forth, trying to forget their words, trying to forget how powerless the whole thing made her feel. The anger and shame, combined with Copia's attentions, were bringing her to a peak unlike any she'd ever felt before. It kept building and building, and when she opened her eyes to see Copia's head thrown back, droplets of sweat running down his chest, all the dams broke. She came hard, sobbing and twitching uncontrollably. She tried to turn away and cover her face with a pillow, but he was too quick. He grabbed one of her wrists, and his hips stopped moving.

"Are you all right?" he panted. "What's wrong, did I hurt you?"

She couldn't bear to look at him. She knew if she saw the concern in his eyes, she wouldn't be able to contain herself.

His hand reached up and wiped tears off her cheek. "Tesoro..." he murmured. "What is it? Look at me."

Her entire body shuddered as she slowly turned back towards him, and opened her eyes. The look on his face broke her, and there were no more defenses; just this weird little man and her raw, bleeding heart completely on display.

"Please," he whispered, his lower lip trembling. "What is it?"

Her hands shook as she raised them in front of her, and made the simple sign.

_I love you._

She winced and held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

He didn't move. He didn't breathe. His eyes seemed to glaze over in confusion, like he wasn't quite sure what she said.

Then he took a breath. A long, shuddering inhale that sent a twinge of hope through her.

He gasped, and she felt his cock throb powerfully inside her. It did it a second time, and his hands flew to her upper thighs, forcing them up and apart. He began thrusting into her again, this time harder and faster, seemingly unaware of what his body was doing. His eyes were still glazed over, but now they were brimming with tears. He let out a deep groan, and the tears rolled down his cheeks.

"I love _you_."

The admission seemed to spark something in him, perhaps breaking through an emotional dam of his own, causing him to move with even more abandon. He threw his head back, his groans now bordering on shouts. 

The Mouse clutched tightly at the sheets, letting her lower half go limp. She loved watching Copia completely lose himself in the pursuit of an orgasm, especially when she let him use her however he wanted. This was different, though; he seemed to be completely letting himself go, giving in to his base instincts and emotions. His grip on her thighs was tight enough to bruise, and the sound of his flesh smacking against hers was almost loud enough to cover his moans.

"AHH-AHH-AHH! F-FUCK-FU-! I'M CUMMING! I'M GON-OH _GOD_!"

She felt his cock spurt deep inside, thick and hot, but Copia didn't stop moving. He continued thrusting, the look on his face changing from orgasmic to almost painful. By this point, the sensitivity of overstimulation would have made him stop. This was not normal.

She reached up and grabbed his forearms, and he grimaced. 

"I-I CAN'T-I CAN'T STOP! I'M SO CLOSE AGAIN! OHH!"

This was definitely a first. He'd never had multiple orgasms before; at least, that's what he told her. It didn't look like it felt particularly good, either, but he seemed unable to stop until he came again.

She grabbed his shoulders and began pulling him down on top of her, his hips stuttering slightly but never ceasing movement. She wrapped her arms around him, letting him bury his face in her neck as he pumped away. Her hands rubbed up and down his sweaty back, trying to soothe him as he chased his second orgasm. The loud groans had devolved into small mewls of desperation. She began rocking her hips up to meet his, a considerate attempt to get him over the edge faster. It must have been what he needed, because the mewls turned into squeaks and sobs, and his entire body shuddered as he came again.

The Mouse kept rubbing gentle circles on his back, while smoothing his hair down with the other. She lay as still as possible, knowing he would be even more sensitive than usual. The only indication she had that he was still alive was his panting and gasping against the crook of her neck. After a minute, he began to gently kiss and nuzzle at the area.

"I can't believe that happened," he softly spoke in her ear. "I can't remember-I don't think anyone's ever said that to me....during."

"It seems to have an effect," she spelled out with her fingers.

He let out a small, exhausted chuckle. "I guess so." He slowly pulled out, hissing through his teeth, and immediately rolled onto his back, dragging her with him. She wrapped her arm around his middle, resting her head on his damp chest.

"S-say it again? Please?"

She lifted her head to look at him, and slowly spelled out the letters. The look of pure happiness in his eyes sent shockwaves through her.

"I love you, too, my tesoro. Mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to Jack-Tobias for lending me their ghoul OC's Frost and Zero for a hot minute


	5. Chapter 5

The roads were virtually empty, and the lack of streetlights in the dark made her eyes tired. Her cheeks itched and burned from the near-constant stream of tears running down them, and she swiped at them with the back of her hand. She'd never made this trip alone before, hadn't even driven a car in years, but she knew the way.

_Maybe one day he'll forgive me._

* * *

The weeks had flown by in a dopamine-fueled haze, the days melting together to the point where, if it wasn't for the nifty little reminder app that Salt told her about, The Mouse would've forgotten most of her cleaning duties. The fledgling ghoul was kind enough to cover for her where he could, but he refused to enter Papa III's rooms or the restricted wing. Perfectly understandable. She found it amusing that he was all-too happy to take care of Papa II's rooms, and decided not to pry further.

She had all but moved into Copia's room, only returning to hers in the mornings to get a shower and clean clothes. 

"I could clear out a drawer for you here," he offered. "Or get a bigger dresser! Then you wouldn't have to go back at all. Just stay here, use my shower." She had to gently remind him of all the times she'd previously tried to use his shower in the morning, only to be surprised by his rock-hard dick poking her in the rear.

"How am I supposed to get ready for work if you can't keep your hands off me?"

He cast his eyes downward, pouting like a scolded little boy. "I can't help it. I always want you. And it's so tempting, when you're right there, and your skin is so wet and warm..."

She held a hand up in his face. "Stop it, or the next shower you take will be a very cold one."

It didn't seem possible, but the sex had actually gotten better. Of course there where times where they would remove only the bare minimum of clothing, go at it and be done in about five minutes, then go about their days. There were also days (and nights) where they would spend hours just touching each other, not a stitch of clothing between them, their bodies pressed together.

Sunday afternoons were the best. Neither of them had any responsibilities on Sundays, and the afternoon sun hit Copia's bed just right, making it the perfect temperature. They would spend the entire day in bed, alternating between napping and quietly making love. Sometimes, they would even doze off during the act, and whoever woke up first would have the pleasure of teasing the other awake. 

On one memorable occasion, The Mouse actually came and stayed asleep the whole time. She didn't wake up until Copia's giggles started shaking the bed.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" she typed.

"I'm so sorry, my love. It was just too precious. Especially with your mouth hanging wide open," he said as he collapsed into hysterics.

She got her revenge by slowly sucking his cock for what seemed like hours, until he begged her, hoarse and teary-eyed, to let him cum. She did, but only after he managed to babble some kind of apology, and swore to never do that again, lest he suffer her wrath.

Which was tickling. He hated being tickled.

* * *

A group of Siblings and ghouls decided to throw one of the infamous impromptu dance parties in the dining hall, and The Mouse couldn't wait for the opportunity to let loose and dance. Summer was in full-swing, and when the heat wouldn't dissipate until well after dark, it drove everybody a little crazy. Everybody except the fire ghouls. Now that it was finally warm enough for them, they would just walk around completely naked. They were not invited to this particular dance party. Nobody wanted to deal with the clean-up.

They borrowed lights and fog machines and a PA with speakers from the band's equipment, and someone provided a laptop to play MP3s and CDs. A couple of industrious Siblings tried to hook up the Mummy Dust cannons, but a large aether ghoul caught them and dragged them out by their ears. "Papa will have all our arses if we take them on tour, and they don't work."

The dining hall ended up looking more like a cheap haunted house than a dance club, but once the homemade booze and edibles came out, nobody cared. A tall earth ghoul was happily handing out fudge brownies that he made himself, with his own cultivated strain baked in. A pair of water ghouls were pouring small cups of their aquavit; one flavored with anise, and one flavored with caraway and dill. A group of Sisters gave up their hoard of stashed snacks for the good of the party, and there was much rejoicing.

Whoever called first dibs on music selection decided it was going to be a 60's/Motown kind of night. The Mouse recognized a lot of songs from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack, but practically every song was suitable for dancing. Every time a James Brown song came on, the un-aspected ghoul that she had fooled around with multiple times would appear to be possessed by the Godfather himself, singing and doing the splits to thunderous cheers. Everybody screamed their own weird fake lyrics to Wild Thing and Louie Louie. The big aether ghoul from earlier dressed up like one of the Blues Brothers and played Soul Man. He even pulled off some of their dance moves, which was impressive, considering his size.

After a couple of hours, everyone was sweaty, crossfaded, and happy. The Mouse was absolutely soaked and exhausted, but smiling. It was nice to work off energy in a non-sexual way, for a change, but she did miss Copia. Sometimes she wished he wasn't so withdrawn and awkward around others, but at the same time, she still wasn't sure she wanted anybody (other than the twins) to know they were together. She knew he'd fucked his way through the congregation just like her, but random hook-ups were a different animal completely. 

There was a gap between songs, and she started to make her way off the dance floor, pushing her sweaty hair away from her face, when the familiar strains from one of her favorite songs came over the PA.

_It's dreamy weather we're on_  
_You waved your crooked wand_  
_Along an icy pond with a frozen moon_

She spun around and almost tripped over her own feet. There was Copia, in his plain clergy shirt and pants, walking towards her with his hand out. 

He wanted to dance. In front of everyone.

She shot him a look that said, "Are you insane?" He ignored it, took her hand, and led her back onto the floor. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as he guided her arms around his neck, wrapping his arms around her back and holding her close. She buried her face into the crook of his neck so she wouldn't have to see the looks on people's faces, but he didn't seem to care at all.

_And the raindrops on my window_  
_And the ice in my drink_  
_Baby all I can think of is Alice_

They swayed back and forth in time to the music, somehow managing not to step on each other's feet. He nuzzled at her ear, his sideburn rubbing on her temple. 

"Are you ashamed to be seen with me?" She shook her head.

"You don't want them to know you actually have feelings? That you can be hurt?" She shrugged.

He pulled the damp hair away from the back of her neck, and she felt his lips graze the spot under her ear. "I'm tired of hiding. Aren't you?"

She lifted her head up to look at him, and he kissed her. In front of everyone.

Suddenly none of it mattered. It was just the two of them, his lips on hers. Her heart pounded in her ears so loud, she couldn't hear any of the "oooh"'s or the suspiciously loud "WHAT THE FUCK" from a fire ghoul she'd known since childhood.

The song ended, and mercifully someone else chose something loud and thrashy, distracting everybody long enough for them to make their escape.

Once upstairs, he sweetly and tenderly made love to her, seemingly determined to kiss and worship every inch of her body.

"I love you, and I don't care who knows it. I'll shout it from every window in the abbey. I belong to you, now. Only you."

* * *

Maybe if she hadn't been so wrapped up in Copia, she would've noticed Papa III's behavior sooner. Maybe she would've been able to say or do something to stop him.

_Maybe, maybe, maybe._

* * *

The more drastic a change, the more noticeable it is. A new haircut, a missing piece of furniture: those things are hard to miss. Little things, like an empty trashcan or a tidy desk: harder to spot, especially when your mind is elsewhere.

The Mouse didn't even realize that she wasn't actually cleaning Papa III's rooms anymore. They were already clean when she got there, but she still went through the motions of taking out garbage and quickly scrubbing the bathroom, until one day she realized the sheets on the bed were immaculate. Either he hadn't bothered sleeping in the bed, or he was doing it himself. It was then she realized that there hadn't been any "guests" in his room for some time, either. 

A cold, sinking feeling set in. She was so busy with Copia, she'd completely forgotten about Papa III's confession to his older brother. She also realized she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him in his rooms while she was cleaning. Usually, he was more than happy to flounce around while she was trying to work, but if he wasn't here, where was he? 

The official papal offices were on the other side of the abbey; she didn't feel like trudging all the way over there, and for what? To interrupt Papa's work and ask why he wasn't lounging around his bedroom? It wasn't her business anyway, but she couldn't help but feel like something was wrong.

She finished her duties in the restricted wing quickly, then went to dinner. Copia had told her he'd be working late, and he'd already arranged for someone in the kitchen to bring him food, so she could just relax for the rest of the night. There was some kind of horror movie marathon happening in one of the common rooms, and he knew how much she enjoyed those. She managed to make it through the recent remake of Halloween, but once House of the Devil started up, she excused herself to bed. The movie was too slow-paced for her, and it always made her fall asleep.

* * *

Something startled her awake. She didn't know if it was a noise or something bumping the bed, and she rolled over to check her phone. Almost 1 am. It wasn't unheard of for Copia to be up that late in his office, but his absence combined with that wrong feeling earlier made her think twice about going back to sleep. 

She got up and threw on some shorts, a t-shirt, and her hoodie, shoving her phone in the pocket. She was about halfway to Copia's office when she almost ran into the enormous aether ghoul. "Looking for the Cardinal?"

She nodded.

"Not in his office. Papa asked for him a little while ago, took him the message meself."

The cold feeling suddenly turned into blind panic, and she took off running. 

_Stupid, stupid. So fucking stupid._

It was naive of her to think that he wouldn't, at some point, confront Copia about their relationship. A man like that was not going to take such an injury to his pride that easily. She was only surprised that he waited this long to say anything about it.

She slowed her steps as she got closer to the office, trying to make as little noise as possible. There was no yelling coming from the slightly-open door, only quiet murmuring. Then suddenly there was a smacking sound, of something striking flesh, and a crashing sound. A familiar sound of gasps and grunting. More punching sounds.

A wave of nausea coursed through her, but she crept closer to the door and looked through the open frame. She had to see.

Copia was on his knees next to an overturned table, his lips split and bleeding, a small trickle of blood coming from one nostril. Papa stood above him, one gloved hand twisted in Copia's pellegrina, the other reared back and red at the knuckles. Copia was clutching at Papa's arm, pleading and begging in Italian. 

"Did you know? _Did you?!_"

"No, Papa! I-" The next punch struck him across the left cheekbone, blood and spittle flying from his mouth. The Mouse's nausea intensified, her body suddenly feeling ice cold.

"It is not enough that you make her cum in your office, for anyone to see, but you...you flaunt her? You k-kiss her in front of them?"

"_Please_, Papa, I'm so-" Another punch, and his head lolled backwards for a moment, like he was on the verge of losing consciousness. 

"She was supposed to be _mine_!" Papa spat, his painted lips pulled back in a vicious sneer.

"She belongs to no one," Copia muttered, barely able to keep his eyes open. "I belong to her, and that is my honor."

Papa's hand pulled back once more, but it never fell. Instead, a horrifying, guttural shriek filled the room.

"**_SSSSSTOOOOPPPPPPP!!!_**"

Everything froze, including The Mouse, who only dimly realized the sound was coming from her own fractured throat.

The pain was immediate and intense, just like it had been after her surgeries. She swallowed, and something felt _wrong_. It made her retch, and the familiar taste of blood crept up her tongue. She began to cough violently, small droplets of blood landing on her hand. She coughed so hard, stars began to dance in front of her eyes, and she gasped a lungful of air, trying to clear the spasm.

"Topolino, no!" Papa let go of Copia, turning his attention to her. He practically ran to her, his hands held out in an attempt to comfort. 

As soon as he was within reach, her right hand suddenly shot out and popped him hard, right in the same spot he'd just punched Copia. The sound of cracking bone was unmistakable, and he staggered backwards, in pain and shock. The action apparently didn't completely register to him, because he stepped towards her again. 

She spat in his face. It hurt, but it felt good to see the bright red blood marring his black and white face paint. His expression slowly began to indicate he knew just how badly he'd fucked up, but she didn't care anymore.

"Fuck you," she rasped, sending another ripple of agony through her throat.

From behind her came the sound of shoes squeaking on the polished floors, and a pair of gray, clawed hands wrapped around her waist, lifting her up and backwards. As she was carried away, her last glimpse of Copia was of him on his knees, cradling his bruised abdomen with one arm, blood dripping from his lips.__

* * *

She didn't bother to struggle with the ghoul carrying her. They were well-known for their physical strength, but also for the sharpness of their claws. One wrong move, and you'd end up gutted. She assumed that was to be her fate regardless. You don't strike a Papa, for any reason. If she was extremely lucky, there would be a disciplinary hearing, followed by immediate expulsion and excommunication from the church. If not, she would be fertilizing Papa I's garden for many moons to come.

The ghoul took another sharp turn, and she realized they weren't heading towards the cellar. Instead, they went through the dining hall and out the back doors of the kitchen. She started slapping at the hands holding her, twisting around to see who it was.

It was Salt, her "partner in filth" as he always put it. His gray cheeks were flushed with exertion, as he was trying his best not to poke her shoulder blades with his long horns.

"It's ok," he panted. "There's a plan."

He ran along the edge of the building until they reached the front courtyard, then banked off to the left, towards the outbuildings. They reached the giant garage where all the Papas personal vehicles were kept, and he set her down outside the door. He quickly punched an access code into the keypad next to the door, and it clicked loudly as it unlocked. He pulled her inside, shoving a padded envelope into her hands. 

"That should be plenty for now. It'll definitely get you wherever you need to go." She looked down into the envelope, it was almost overflowing with $50 dollar bills. There was at least a grand in there, maybe more. 

He pressed something cold and metal into her hand. A set of car keys. 

"It's the second one from the end, the BMW. Tank's full, everything works, shouldn't get pulled over for anything, unless you start driving like a moron."

The Mouse looked down at the items in her hands, then back up at the ghoul. Her face crinkled in confusion.

_What the hell is all this?_

"Papa II said it was only a matter of time. 'He's going to lose it, and kill either one or both of them.' Copia has protection, but you hit Papa. You need to go. Now."

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her towards the car. The door to the stall opened once she reached the driver's side door. She looked back at Salt one last time.

"This didn't happen, I wasn't here. Good luck."

The BMW was virtually silent as she backed out of the garage, the only noticeable sound the crunching of gravel beneath the tires. She turned on just the fog lights to help guide her down the long driveway, at least until she was out of sight of the main building. 

Once she reached the end, she turned left, towards the highway. There wasn't a sign, but she knew how far it was.

387 miles.

She was going home.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun was up, and it was muggy as hell by the time The Mouse pulled up to her parents' house. It was almost 8 am, so there was little to no chance of seeing them, as they'd be long gone to work. She parked the Beemer next to the driveway entrance, in the hopes that they wouldn't realize she was home until after they got inside. It had been almost 2 years since she'd last seen them, and she didn't really feel up to a big family reunion.

She removed the spare key from its hiding spot: the base of a fiberglass Baphomet statue that sat next to the front door. The only sign of her family's beliefs that they would allow others to see. She let herself in, thankful that her parents believed central air was something to be used constantly, even when they weren't home.

The blinds and curtains were drawn, casting the rooms in shadow. Every surface was immaculate. It was hard to believe anybody actually lived there. She opened the fridge door, and to her amazement, there was a full package of chocolate pudding cups in the back. Her favorite snack, just in case she came home.

She ate one standing at the sink, not caring that it was morning and she hadn't eaten breakfast yet. She was still shaking from nerves and low blood sugar, and besides, she was an adult. If you want chocolate pudding for breakfast, you can have it, goddamnit. It soothed her aching throat, which still felt raw.

Once the dishes were taken care of, The Mouse wandered down the hallway towards her old bedroom. It was exactly the way she left it, but cleaner. No clothing or books scattered across the floor, no magazines or food wrappers covering the desk. The bed was perfectly made, and she could practically hear it calling to her. 

She went to the bathroom across the hall to wash her face and rinse out her mouth, grimacing at the sight of dried blood at the corners of her mouth and between her teeth. Her throat still burned, and when she rubbed it, she could feel something out of place under the skin. Hopefully Dr. Phillips would have an opening soon, even though she knew he would chew her out for whispering and yelling.

She peeled off her hoodie, and climbed into bed. It was weird and foreign and familiar all at once. Sleep took her quickly, before she had a chance to think about how much she wished Copia was there with her.

* * *

Someone was screaming.

The Mouse sat up so fast, the blankets tangled around her legs, and she slid right off the bed. Her mother stood in the doorway, the day's mail scattered on the floor in front of her. Either she decided to come home early, or The Mouse had literally slept the day away.

"What the hell are you doing here?! You almost gave me a heart attack, I thought someone had broken in and was in your bed! And whose BMW is that outside, that's not Papa's, is it? Did you steal Papa's car?!"

The Mouse held up hands up in submission. She managed to free one arm from the blanket and grabbed her phone off the nightstand. 

"Papa II's car. Didn't steal it, he let me borrow it."

"He let you borrow his car, out of the kindness of his heart, to drive 400 miles home? Why?"

The phone slipped from her fingers as she burst into tears. Her mother was instantly at her side, pulling her into her arms.

"What happened? Honey, what happened?"

"I fucked up, Mom," she signed. "I really fucked up."

* * *

They sat on the swing on the back porch, drinking cold lemonade, while The Mouse typed out everything on her phone. Even her relationship with Copia, minus all the really dirty stuff. Her parents had been members of the church since before she was born, and they'd known Copia for a very long time. The word "surprised" didn't come close to her mother's reaction.

"You know how old he is, right?"

"Yes."

"He's older than your father and I."

"_I KNOW_."

She was incredibly hesitant in admitting to assaulting Papa, but her mother insisted on knowing everything. As soon as the words were out of the phone speaker, her mother was up and pacing.

"Holy shit...holy shit..." she muttered as she rubbed her forehead. "You do realize they could excommunicate you for this, right?"

"The thought had occurred to me."

"What were you thinking? You had no business poking your nose into church affairs."

"That wasn't 'church affairs', Mom. That was my lover getting his ass kicked by his superior, who apparently has some kind of unhealthy obsession with me, and an even worse anger management problem. He was being beaten because of me, and I couldn't just let it happen."

Just then, the garage door opened and a car pulled inside. The Mouse's father was home.

Her mother sighed. "I don't know how we're going to explain this to your dad. He adores Papa. Remember the last time we were there for Solstice, and they spent hours talking about the church's wine collection? I honestly wondered if he was going to announce he was leaving me for Papa," she chuckled.

A voice boomed from the kitchen. "Maggie? Whose Beemer is that on the street? It looks like Papa Gio's car." 

"Greg-"

"Someone in the HOA is gonna get a bug up their ass and complain if it doesn't get moved soon. Fuckin' nosey assholes."

"_Greg_-"

"Want me to call Steve, see if it's a guest of his? Then he can deal with that bullshit-"

"**GREG!**"

He poked his head out the back door. "What-OH MY GOD. Honey, what are you doing here? Why didn't you call first? Ok, that was dumb, my fault. What's going on? Is everything ok?"

"She's in some deep shit, Greg. Sit down, I'll give you the short version."

* * *

He laughed when he found out she was with Copia. "The little rat? He always struck me as the type that only got hookers or went home with incredibly drunk women."

He was nowhere near as amused when she told him what Papa III had said about her. "Wow. Um....okay. Uhhh...phew. Okay..."

"He never put hands on me, Dad. He never threatened me or anything."

"Doesn't matter. If he was jealous enough to hit someone you were already with, what's to stop him from hitting you? It's not a big leap. I can't believe this, I never thought he'd be like that."

"That's how abusers work, Greg. They fool you until you're in too deep, and then it's too late."

"But we've known him, what? 25 years? It just seems so out of character for him."

"I did hear some rumors here and there about him having trouble balancing church stuff and band stuff," The Mouse typed. "Lots of times, there would be papers on his desk in his room that he didn't even bother looking at, he'd have me just throw them out. Probably important stuff, and he just ignored it. He definitely lived up to the idea of 'all play and no work'."

Maggie leaned back in the porch swing and sighed. "I just hope they take your side of things into account. They can't punish you for defending yourself, and I would definitely call that self-defense. In the meantime, we'll see what Dr. Phillips has to say."

Greg looked up, confused. "Why are you seeing Dr. Phillips?"

"I screamed at Papa to stop. Something is wrong with my throat, and I don't want to wait until I cough up more blood or choke on my food."

He put his hand out. "Wait. You screamed? As in, you actually made a noise, it came out of your voice box?"

The Mouse nodded. "Hurt like hell, but I didn't think waving my hands or stomping my foot was gonna cut it."

He sat back in his chair. "Do-do you think it's possible you have nerve function again? I mean, something had to move for you to make sound, right?"

She shrugged. "Find out tomorrow. He'll wanna do a laryngoscopy, which I'm not looking forward to."

Maggie placed a hand on her shoulder. "Better not eat or drink anything after midnight, just in case they need to put you under."

Greg clapped his hands together smartly. "On that happy note: who wants pizza?"

* * *

The doctor's office was cold, and The Mouse was starving, but every time she thought of food, her stomach rolled. 

_Just nerves, that's all._

She laid back on the exam table, kicking her feet, while her mom played a game on her phone. Something with really irritating sound effects, and she thought about throwing it out the window, when the doctor finally came in.

"Maggie! How are you? Always nice to see you." He warmly shook her mother's hand. He was also a member of the church, so they'd known each other for years, which is how he became her throat surgeon.

"Miss Alice. What do you have for me today?" He placed his hands on her throat, gently pressing and squeezing her larynx. She grimaced in pain a few times, and felt something shift a little. He sighed in mild annoyance.

"Have you been whispering? Like I advised you not to?" She nodded, and held up her fingers to indicate it was only a tiny amount of whispering.

"And then you screamed at someone the other day? Quite a bit of pain, plus some bleeding?" She nodded again.

"Well...I'll be straight with you. I'm not going to rule out anything until I've had a look in there. Lucky for you, I've got a lot of room on the schedule today, why don't we go ahead and do a direct laryngoscopy? Skip the fiber optic one and just get the full picture. I'm guessing there's been nothing by mouth since midnight?"

"I told her not to eat or drink, just in case," Maggie offered.

"Ok, great!" He clapped his hands together. "I'll have the nurse come in and take you to the procedure room, get you all set up. One last thing: is there any chance you could be pregnant?"

She froze. Time itself seemed to stop.

_I'm a fucking idiot. How could I forget about that?_

She slowly pulled out her phone, and checked her period-tracking app. She had entered the date when she took her last birth control pill. 

_ALMOST 3 MONTHS AGO? When the hell was my last period? A week after that._

She tried to think back to when her period ended, what was going on at the time.

_Oh, shit. SHIT SHIT SHIT._

The night they first said "I love you". The night he came in her twice within a few minutes.

The look on her face spoke volumes.

"Okay....how about we do the fiber optic, just to be safe, and you take a test once we're done? If it comes back negative, we can put you under."

"And what if it doesn't come back negative?" Her mother seemed to be in just as much shock as she was.

"How about we worry once we get there?"

* * *

Having a fiber optic tube put up your nose and down your throat is just as horrible as it sounds. They sprayed a numbing agent on the back of The Mouse's throat, but it really didn't help. She gagged so hard, she threw up what little stomach acid she had. 

"Well, that was unpleasant," Dr. Phillips said. "Try to warn me if that's gonna happen again, ok?"

Once the camera was in her throat, he asked her to try whispering. It hurt a little, but that was typical. Then he asked her to try and say something.

"Ssssomething," she croaked.

The doctor couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I can tell you right now, the damage to your folds is minimal. It looks like just some scar tissue was pulled during adduction, when you were yelling. The great news is, the tissue wouldn't have been pulled at all if there was no nerve function. It may have taken longer than what's typical, but it looks like you just might be getting your voice back."

Her mother immediately burst into tears. 

"Now, while that's incredibly good news, you're not out of the woods yet. We're looking at _at least _6 months of speech therapy. At the very minimum. And I would suggest starting as soon as possible, before the folds become more immobile."

At this point, The Mouse had stopped listening. 

_I could speak again. No more apps or sign language._

She let her mother handle the rest of the appointment and getting the referral to a therapist. She felt like she was floating in some weird alternate universe, and almost forgot about the other pressing issue.

As they were leaving the hospital, her mother grabbed her arm and pulled her into the pharmacy. She pulled a pregnancy test off the shelf and put it on the counter. "We're doing this before we leave."

Once they'd paid, they found the nearest bathroom, and her mother all but shoved her into it.

Peeing on a stick is humiliating, even more so in a public bathroom. She closed her eyes while she waited for the results to show.

_Maybe it will be negative. Maybe my hormones are all fucked up from stress, and suddenly quitting the pills, and that's why I missed two periods. Maybe the nausea the last few days is just a fluke, a low blood sugar thing._

She finally willed her eyes open, and looked down at the test.

Unavoidably, completely 100% positive.

"Fuck," she quietly croaked.


	7. Chapter 7

The trip home was probably the most uncomfortable car ride The Mouse had ever taken, including the time she ate too much at the state fair and puked all over herself in the backseat, in the middle of nowhere.

"I...have no idea what to tell your father," her mother said, tapping her fingers on the wheel. "I mean, if this was a Papa's child, they'd put you in confinement, but for a Cardinal's? Maybe they'll take pity on you, because of your...condition."

"My 'condition'? Mom, it's not the 50's anymore. And we're not telling the clergy until we have to." 

"How does your throat feel?"

The Mouse rubbed at it a little. "Fine, as long as I use this stupid baby voice. I sound like Marilyn Monroe on helium. Like a really insecure phone sex operator." It was annoying as hell, but as long as it didn't make her feel like she was swallowing crushed glass, it would have to suffice.

"I suppose you're starving. What are you in the mood for?"

"Barbecue. Really greasy barbecue. With coleslaw and potato salad."

"Seriously? You hate mayonnaise."

"Not anymore."

* * *

Once her father had the stereotypical freak-out ("I'm too young to be a grandfather!") and she'd eaten enough to choke a horse, The Mouse went back to sleep. She couldn't understand how she could feel so exhausted when this thing was barely the size of a kidney bean. Sure, it already had a face, and it must take a lot of energy to make a person, but this was ridiculous. It was like a hangover that wouldn't quit.

Over the next week, the only times she got out of bed were to eat, use the bathroom, and bathe. Actually, it was more like falling asleep in the bathtub, but she figured it counted as bathing.

She also managed to convince the speech therapist to come to the house, so she didn't have to go any further than the living room. The exercises sucked, but they worked. After each time, she found she was able to talk longer than previously, but she still had to do it so quietly, she considered getting a megaphone to speak into.

One afternoon, she was blissfully unconscious after lunch, when her father knocked at her door.

"Alice? Honey, you need to get up. Someone is here to see you."

A pit of anxiety sprung to life in her stomach, but she knew she had to face the consequences sooner or later. She trudged out to the living room, where her parents were seated on the couch. In the chair opposite them, a bald man in a suit, with very expensive sunglasses perched on his nose.

Papa II, or as her parents called him, "Papa Gio". They'd known him since joining the church decades earlier, he was their "dude", as they put it.

Her mother patted the couch cushion between them. "Come sit down, honey. Papa is here with some news."

She cautiously sat down, and couldn't help but wonder why her parents were so friendly with this grumpy bastard. She cleaned his rooms 5 days week for 5 years, and every time, he sat there watching and judging her. He was the personification of the word "sour".

They sat in silence for a few seconds, then Papa reached up and, uncharacteristically, removed his sunglasses. He had the unmistakable eyes of an Emeritus; green on the right, near-white on the left, only a pupil visible in the center.

"Alice," he said quietly.

"Papa," she responded.

One of his eyebrows quirked up in surprise. "You seem to have found your voice."

"I just needed to scream myself bloody, I guess."

His lips tightened. "Yes. When I told you to defy my younger brother, I did not mean to punch him and spit blood in his face. Well deserved, yes, but not what I had in mind."

"How is he?" her mother asked.

Papa sighed. "My brother has taken....a leave of absence, shall we say, from his papal duties. A sabbatical. Not only to recover from his fractured cheekbone, but from the stresses of leading both the church and the Ghost project."

"Well...who's in charge, then?" Her father seemed very concerned.

"For the time being, papal duties will be shared between my father, my older brother, myself, and the Cardinal. Between the 4 of us, it should not be too much of a strain on any one man. However...."

He let a moment pass before continuing.

"My brother has been relieved of his duties as leader of the Ghost project. Permanently."

Their mouths dropped open in shock.

"Wh-who's replacing him?" The Mouse asked.

"The Cardinal."

"_What?!_" It came out louder than she meant it to, and it set off a coughing fit. Her mother rubbed her back to try and stop the spasm.

"I think what she means is, the Cardinal....he's never seemed comfortable with performing-"

"Or existing," The Mouse coughed.

"-in front of people. Is Papa Nihil confident that he can take Papa's place?"

He steepled his fingers together. "We will see. Hopefully, he will be a worthy successor." 

The lull in conversation was almost painful, until The Mouse's father cleared his throat.

"It was very kind of you to bring us this news in person, Papa,"

"Honestly, I was just coming to retrieve my car, but I figured I might as well save Imperator a phone call."

The Mouse gripped the cuffs of her hoodie tight in her hands. 

"Have..the clergy made a decision? As far as Alice's punishment?" 

Papa reached into his pocket for his sunglasses and put them back on. "Yes. They agreed excommunication was too severe for the...transgression."

They all breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that's good," her mother sighed.

"But you have been fired."

The Mouse's blood ran cold. She started to feel light-headed and grabbed for her mother's hand. "Does-does that mean I can't go back?"

"Yes. Your belongings will be sent to you. The rest of the cleaning staff will take over your duties from now on."

"Is-" She licked her lips nervously. "Is there any way I could speak to Imperator, perhaps I could change her mind?"

"Imperator did not make the decision. It was put to a vote amongst the high clergy. The deciding vote was Copia's."

If it were not for the death grip she currently had on her mother's hand, The Mouse felt that she would either dissolve into a ball of white-hot rage, or sob until she vomited.

"Unbelievable," her father fumed. "She tries to defend him, ends up hurting herself, and _she's_ the one that gets in trouble? Is this really the man you want in charge of Ghost? What the hell was he thinking?"

"The Cardinal did not offer his reasons for his vote, and I did not ask. Now-" He carefully rose to his feet.

"I have a long car ride ahead of me, with a ghoul that takes speed limits as suggestions, not laws. I will take my leave. I hope to see all of you at the next solstice celebration. Until then." He placed his stupid-looking fedora back on his head, and walked to the front door. 

Both of her parents wordlessly motioned to her to speak. "Tell him!" they mouthed, pointing at her belly.

The Mouse sat perfectly still, wishing she could shoot daggers into Papa's back with her eyes. Her father went to open the door for Papa, and the old man whispered something in his ear. She didn't catch what it was, but it made his face crumble for a split second.

She let go of her mother's hand, and slowly walked back to her room. She climbed back into bed and, after a few moments, felt her mother lay down behind her. 

"I'll stay until you fall asleep again. Just like when you were little."

* * *

_Papa hung up his coat and hat in his office, then made his way down to see Copia. He found him passed out at the desk, surrounded by paperwork and dirty dishes. Either Salt was slacking in his cleaning duties, or Copia was refusing to let anyone in._

_He slammed the door, and the noise made Copia jump in his chair._

_"Oh! Papa. I-erm-I wasn't expecting you back so soon. How was your trip?"_

_Papa sat down in the chair opposite the desk. "How do you think it went?"_

_Copia began to fidget, and bowed his head. "Not good."_

_"That is putting it mildly. You could have called her, written her a letter. Instead, I had to tell her, with her parents sitting there."_

_"I-I wouldn't know what to say..."_

_"She is speaking again. Taking therapy and doing exercises. She sounds like she did when she was a very young girl."_

_Copia nodded and sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging._

_"Are you even a man? You have a dick, yes?"_

_Copia suddenly sat upright, a confused but indignant look in his eyes._

_"There he is. A man, not a weasel. You made this decision, you need to stand by it and stop feeling sorry for yourself."_

_"I miss her. I sometimes feel like I can't breathe without her."_

_"Then fix it. Or don't. Your choice."_

* * *

The Mouse was carefully drying herself off after yet another bath-nap, and she could hear her parents arguing in the kitchen. They used to tell her it was a "discussion" and not an argument, but usually slamming drawers and stomping around doesn't mean "discussion". She put on the clean clothes she'd laid out, and went to see what the problem was.

"This is ridiculous, and I have half a mind to call and give the Cardinal a piece of my mind," her father was saying. He was very angry about the whole situation, especially the fact that Copia decided to fire her, knowing full well that they might never see each other again because of it. "I don't understand how a man can do that, repeatedly profess his love and then just throw someone away. That's assuming he was telling the truth to begin with."

"Greg, you're going to give yourself an aneurysm if you keep this up. They're adults, they'll either work it out or they won't. Besides, he doesn't even know she's pregnant. Maybe if he had known, he would've voted differently, but there's no way to know now."

He scoffed. "Yeah, maybe. Or maybe not. It's not the first time a high clergy member has knocked a girl up and then pretended she didn't exist."

The Mouse suddenly got the feeling she wasn't supposed to hear that. "What are you talking about?"

They hadn't realized she was listening. Her father choked on his drink, and her mother looked defeated. "She was going to find out sooner or later."

"Find out...what?"

Her mother guided her to a chair at the kitchen counter.

"A long time ago, when your dad and I were just starting to see each other, there was an...opportunity presented to me. There was going to be a ritual, for the spring solstice, and they were asking young women to participate. I volunteered, of course. I didn't realize until it was too late that it was a very....sexual...ritual. I didn't have a problem with that, and neither did your dad, it was all in celebration of our Dark Lord. I ended up....with a high clergy member. It was an amazing experience...but I got pregnant. I told him as soon as I found out, and he...just didn't care. He said to come back to him again if it was a son, but obviously you are not a boy. I was young and scared and didn't want to raise a baby on my own. Your dad...he loved me anyway. And he loved you as his own, even before he laid eyes on you. That's what really matters."

_The hits just keep on coming, don't they?_

"Which clergy member?"

"Honey, it's not important, it-"

"_Who_?"

Her mother sighed, and looked over at her father. He made a non-committal gesture. "If she wants to know, tell her. Maybe it'll help."

The silence was almost unbearable, and finally her mother spoke.

"Papa Gio."

_Mother of fuck._


	8. Chapter 8

*buzz buzz*

_Primetime of your life_

_Now_

_Live_

_Primetime of your life_

The Mouse snatched her phone off the nightstand. 

_Who the fuck is calling me at 2:30 in the morning?_

The caller ID said "private number". All phone numbers at the Ministry are listed as private.

She silenced the ringer and stared at the vibrating phone.

_I don't want to answer it. I shouldn't answer it. Fuck, I have to answer it._

"Hello?" Her voice was rough from sleeping, and she sounded a bit froggy.

"Alice?"

"Yeah."

"This is your father."

She sighed heavily and pulled the blankets up over her head. "Why are you calling in the middle of the night?"

"I am usually awake during the night. Did you know that, prior to the advent of the 40-hour work week, most people had periods of wakefulness during the night? They would be awake for one or two hours in the middle of the night, then go back to sleep and wake up well-rested in the morning."

"Sounds vaguely familiar."

He was silent for a moment. "Your mother called me. She told you everything?"

"Just that you basically used her as a Prime Mover and wanted nothing to do with a child that wasn't male. Sorry to disappoint."

He huffed with annoyance. "If that is what you think, then she has told you nothing. I need you to be quiet and just listen."

* * *

"For reasons that I still have yet to understand, women born into the Emeritus line are sent away at birth. To other abbeys, one would guess. I am fairly certain that I have half-sisters that I have never met, nor will I ever meet. 

When your mother told me she was pregnant, and that it was mine, I told her I would only acknowledge the child if it were male because he would be raised in the church by myself and my brothers. If the child were to be female...she would be sent away by the high clergy, never to be seen again. I did not want that for my child. 

Do you know how you received your nickname? Topolino? You probably do not remember this, you were maybe two or three years old at the time. It was a spring solstice celebration, much like the one you were conceived in, and there was an egg hunt across the abbey grounds. You had gone off with a group of small children, but you were separated at some point, and they lost you. Everyone searched for hours; every floor, every closet, groups of ghouls went out into the woods sniffing like dogs for your scent. I went back to my rooms to change into more sensible clothing, and there you were. Curled up under my desk, fast asleep. If I had sat down, I would have kicked you. I reached down and pulled you out, and you never stirred. As I carried you back, I studied you. Your hair, your nose, your little hands. That was when I knew I had made the right decision in not claiming you as my own. You were there, with me, even if it was only for a few minutes. It would never have been possible if you were named an Emeritus at birth. I handed you back to your parents and said, "Here is your _topolino_. It means 'little mouse'." A fitting name, especially after your accident.

I am not a kind man. You know this. But, I am capable of love, just not in a way that others can easily understand. I ensured you saw the best doctors, had the best care, the most current procedures and treatments. I spared no expense to have your family relocated as needed, so you would be close to whatever specialists you were seeing. Once you completed school, it was I that ordered Imperator to give you your job. I wanted to know you, my only child, but I knew it would take time. I know you feared me as a child, and I will regret that to the end of my days, but it was necessary. I observed your work every day, not only to learn about you, but to teach you something as well. Humility does not come naturally to the Emeritus family. We are born taking everything for granted. I wanted you to be different, and in many ways, you were. You were polite and discreet, you did not grovel or kiss ass. Always kind and helpful, even when it pissed you off. Unfortunately, you did inherit the "demon blood", as we call it. A very high sex drive, in other words.

That day in Dante's room, I was not trying to insult you. I was merely trying to dissuade him from his way of thinking. Obviously, he was unaware that he is your uncle. Once I revealed that information to him, shortly after you left, he was...disturbed, to say the least. I have never seen him so disgusted with himself. That is partly the reason for his leave of absence. He wanted to take a very thorough personal inventory and think about what kind of man he is, and what kind he wants to be. I have never seen him more apologetic for anything else in his life. He wanted me to tell you that he begs your forgiveness, but he understands if you never give it. He also refused to leave until he could apologize to Copia in person. Practically drowned the man in tears and kisses until he accepted.

I can understand if you are furious with Copia, with his decision to terminate your employment. I did everything I could to ensure you were not excommunicated, but I could not do more to save your job. After the meeting, I went to his office. I will admit, I wanted to strangle the little rodent, but as I stood in front of the door, I could hear him sobbing pitifully on the other side. He loves you, that much is evident, but his dedication to the church is ingrained in his very being. I believe he sees it as a personal sacrifice for the good of the Ministry. A painful, but necessary, sacrifice.

Now, then. He has gotten you pregnant, has he not?"

The Mouse sniffled and cleared her throat. She'd tried her best to cry as silently as possible while he spoke. "Yeah. Did my mom tell you?"

"No. I could tell by looking at you. I saw you five days a week for five years, I know when something is different about you. I did not tell him. That is your choice. Are you going to keep the child?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Then I have only one question for you: do you want to come home?"

"I...I thought I couldn't, since I don't have a job there. And I can't take vows as a Sibling, not like this."

"You are my child, you can come home any time. There is a catch, however. You will need to stay out of public sight until I officially name you as my heir. It will be easier for you and your child once the congregation starts thinking of you not as part of the staff, but as part of the Emeritus line. I will have rooms set up for you, you will take your meals with the family, and in time you can rekindle the relationships you have made with those in the Ministry."

"You don't want Copia to know I'm there?"

He sighed. "He has many new responsibilities as leader of the Ghost project, and he needs to be focused on those. I know you understand how important that is."

"Yeah. I also don't know if I ever want to see him again."

"I know you feel betrayed, that is understandable. I think he is beginning to see how grave a mistake he made in letting you go, and in time he will come to regret it immensely. Give him that time to torture himself. Then you can save him from it."

She chuckled quietly. "Well, there is always that."

"So what is your answer? Will you come home?"

She thought for a few moments. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed the abbey. She missed her friends. And even though she was unbelievably pissed at him, she missed Copia so much she almost couldn't breathe when she thought about him.

"Ok. I'll come home."

He sounded strangely relieved. "I will send a ghoul for you. He will escort you home by plane, so you don't have to sit for six hours in a car. Copia and his new band ghouls will be away for a few days, for interviews and photo shoots and other silly industry things. You will be settled by the time they get back, and he will not even realize you are there."

"What about my speech therapist? I need to keep getting therapy for my voice."

"I will find you the best one available. You will be singing in the choir before you know it."

"Ha! That'll be the day."

"I hope so. I have always wished for us to sing together some day."

"I....I can't promise anything."

"I know. I will let you go back to sleep now. You need your rest."

"Ok. Good night, Papa."

"Good night, my little mouse."


	9. Chapter 9

The Mouse struggled to stay awake, slumped in her chair at the tiny regional airport her parents dropped her off at. Papa Gio had called just after 5 am to tell her that he was sending a private jet to pick her up, and she had to be at the airport by 6. She managed to drag herself out of bed, tell her parents about the phone call, then fell asleep on the living room couch. Her mother managed to shove a bunch of clothes into a duffel bag, and tucked a baggie of chocolate chips into her pocket before dragging her to the car. The morning sickness wasn't that bad, but her parents made her carry an empty ice cream bucket on her lap the entire way, just in case.

Once they arrived, they handed her the duffel bag, hugged and kissed her goodbye, then got back in the car.

"Wait. You're just leaving me here?"

"Honey, we have to hurry back or we'll both be late for work. You'll be fine, the plane should be here any minute now. Love you!" The tires kicked up gravel and dust as they drove off, and once they reached the road, her dad peeled out, tires squealing.

_I guess that's that._

After almost dozing off for the umpteenth time, a loud, shrieking engine startled The Mouse to her feet. She looked around, waiting for some airport employee to come out of wherever they were hiding, but there was no sign of anybody. Either they were too busy doing something else, or more likely, Papa paid them to fuck off.

A small silver jet slowly pulled up alongside the open side of the hangar, and gradually came to a stop. The door opened, and a motorized staircase unfolded, clanging on the tarmac. Suddenly the pointy tips of a pair of horns emerged from the darkness of the cabin. It was Salt, probably ordered by Papa to accompany her. She waved her arm over her head to get his attention, and when he saw her, his grayish face lit up. He immediately ducked out of sight, and a dark, clawed hand appeared, beckoning her to the plane. 

She dragged the heavy duffel bag across the hangar floor and onto the tarmac. Once she reached the stairs, Salt peeked around the edge of the doorway. 

"Sorry, but I'm not supposed to let anybody see me! Papa's orders!"

"If you're here, who's doing the cleaning?"

Hearing her speak apparently made him forget his last sentence. "Ok, number one: your voice is....weird. Number two: you don't have to worry about the cleaning anymore. Just...come on, get on the goddamn plane."

"I can't lift the bag, it's too heavy. I'm not supposed to be lifting heavy objects in my condition."

He sighed and moved out of sight for a moment. With a speed she didn't think possible, he ran down the stairs, grabbed the handle of the bag, and threw it into the cabin.

"_There_! Now, **get in**! Please."

She slowly walked up the stairs, just to aggravate him further. "Were you hoping I'd still sound like a dude?"

"HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-no."

* * *

The plane ride was somewhat uneventful, minus Salt constantly asking her to say weird things in her soft baby voice. She eventually had to start faking morning sickness in order to get him to shut up. 

The flight was mercifully short, and they landed at yet another seemingly-abandoned airfield. Papa's BMW was idling in front of the hangar, with a very anxious ghoul behind the wheel.

"Papa wanted you guys back by 8 am sharp! It's almost 8:15!"

"Well, it's not our fault they need to do, like, safety checks and stuff. If he gets mad, tell him to yell at the pilots, not us." Salt gently elbowed The Mouse in the side. "But he won't yell at you, will he?" 

She thought for a second. "I don't think he's ever yelled at me. Not even when I was a little shit goofing off during services. He would just give me that look, you know the one. Where you wish you could hide behind a mountain to get away from it."

Salt nodded in agreement and shuddered.

The ghoul was forced to drive the speed limit, so they ended up arriving almost an hour late to the abbey. The ghoul made them wait in the garage until he got an all-clear from inside the main building. Salt grabbed the duffel bag, and encouraged The Mouse to walk as fast as possible once inside.

"Everybody should be in classes, but just in case someone's skipping or something, you need to get to the resident wing fast."

The resident wing was where all the Papas had their rooms. "Did Papa want to see me, or...?"

"Oh, your rooms are down there. He figured it would be nicer if you had people to talk to without leaving the wing. Of course, it's limited to your family, so...." he shrugged.

They quietly rushed through the halls, taking countless twists and turns. She always wondered if the abbey was purposely designed to make it difficult to get to where the Papas were most vulnerable. It really just made the wing a pain in the ass to clean. 

When they reached the locked elevator door, Salt dug in his pockets for the set of master keys. He located the rusty old key and was just opening the gate when the sounds of Siblings leaving their classrooms began to echo down the hall.

He shoved her and the bag thru the open door, then reached his arm in to press the "UP" button. The ancient elevator creaked and shook as the motor struggled to lift it. The Mouse looked down as it started to rise, Salt was already locking the gate behind her. The Papas all had their own keys for the elevator, so they could come and go as they pleased, but the fact that she didn't have one planted a tiny seed of anxiety in her. 

It always seemed to take forever for the elevator to go up just two floors, and this time was no different. She turned around to exit through the opposite side, and as the third floor came into view, she saw someone waiting on the other side of the gate. One look at the shoes, and she knew it was her father. He had very particular (expensive) taste when it came to Italian leather goods.

Handsome but intimidating as ever, he was waiting patiently for her. Since he was no longer associated with the Ghost project, he'd stopped wearing his skull paint and grew a well-maintained mustache. He still shaved his head clean down to the skin, and The Mouse realized she'd never seen him with hair, not even as a child. She made a mental note to ask if him male-patterned baldness ran in the family.

He was wearing his usual black suit and tie, but no sunglasses. His blind white eye was unnerving, and he still towered over her, as though she was only half her actual height. He pulled open the gate and stepped aside so she could exit, pulling the duffel bag behind her.

"Can you not carry that?"

She puffed a stray piece of hair from her eyes. "No. My mom packed it full of random clothes and stuff from my room, I don't know half of what's in here."

"I doubt that any of it is needed. I have taken the liberty of having your own account set up, you may order clothing or things for your room, _within reason_. I do not want to have to justify your spending habits to your grandfather, or to Imperator."

The idea of having to explain anything to Imperator sent chills up her spine. "What about....baby stuff?"

"I believe if you create a-what is it called-baby registry? Then members of the congregation could obtain those things for you. But I do not think that is a pressing issue at this time, do you?"

She shook her head. The first trimester wasn't even done, and most people didn't announce pregnancies until after that, so there really wasn't any hurry.

Papa grabbed the bag's handle and easily hoisted it under his arm. "Your rooms are on the right, next to mine. We will share the private veranda with Virgil, on the rare occasion he decides to use it."

The Mouse knew what rooms he was talking about. Her grandfather had used them before he became Papa, but none of his sons chose to use them. At least she didn't feel like she'd have to go over the entire thing with a UV light. 

Papa opened the door to her rooms, and walked through the sitting room to set the bag down on the bed. She had to stop and look around in awe. The only time she had ever been in there, everything was coated in dust and dropcloths. Now it was spotless, with gauzy curtains and fresh linens. The bed even looked brand new, as well.

She sat down on the end of the bed, suddenly feeling very tired. Papa walked around the room, inspecting the surfaces for any missed spots. "What would you like to do now?" he asked.

"I think I might take a shower, or a bath, and then go back to sleep. It's been a very eventful morning, and I've been so tired lately. What time is lunch?"

"Noon. But, if you are asleep, I will ask the kitchen to wait."

"That sounds good, thanks." She bent down and started unlacing her shoes. Papa clasped his hands behind his back, and bowed his head towards her. 

"I take my leave. Get some rest." He was almost to the door when she called out.

"Papa?" He turned back to look at her.

"Thank you...for letting me come home." 

He almost smiled. _Almost_. He gave a quick nod and left the room.

* * *

The Mouse slept better than she had in weeks. The familiar smells and sounds of the Ministry helped a great deal, and she woke up ravenous. She wandered out into the sitting room, and found a list of extensions next to an old rotary phone on a side table. She dialed the one for the kitchen.

"Yeah?" a voice surrounded by kitchen noise answered.

"Hi...uh...could I get something to eat?"

"Of course, miss. What would you like?"

"Um....what did everybody else eat for lunch?"

"Oh, you don't have to eat that. We'll make whatever you want."

"Ok...in that case, I want a really greasy burger and French Fries."

"All right, what would you like on it?"

"Everything that you would find on a Whopper....and a fried egg."

The voice on the other end didn't immediately respond, and she could just imagine the look of horror on the poor girl's face.

"Ok! We'll have it up to you in less than 30 minutes!" The line disconnected, and The Mouse wondered how they knew where to send the food.

She heard the elevator rumble about 25 minutes later, and ran to open her door, but there was nobody there. She waited for a few seconds, then heard the elevator descend back to the ground floor. Confused, she leaned out and looked down the hall. They'd left the cart sitting outside the elevator gate. She retrieved the tray on top, and decided to eat out on the private veranda, since burgers and fries always seemed to taste better outside.

She walked through the French doors that led outside and almost threw the tray in the air. Her father and his older brother, Virgil, sat at the table, drinking what looked like afternoon tea and reading silently. The elder Emeritus heard the clatter of dishes and looked up, smiling.

"Topolino! Welcome home, _bambina_!" He struggled to stand up and greet her properly, his Burberry scarf stuck under his cup and saucer. Years of bad circulation and exposure to pesticides now required him to bundle up, even outside in the middle of summer. If he caught a chill, his joints would lock up and he would have to spend days, if not weeks, in bed recovering. Their father had to basically threaten him to lead the Ghost project a decade earlier, and once he was told to step aside for his younger brother, he couldn't get home fast enough. He lived for his plants and flowers, for the heat and humidity of his own personal greenhouse. It was the only place he didn't need to stay wrapped up like a mummy. 

"Her name is Alice, _fratello_. She is not a tiny mouse any longer." Gio peeked around the edge of his newspaper to chide his brother.

"I know, I know, old habits. Come, come! Sit down!" Virgil gestured to the chair next to him, which he slid away from the table with a scraping sound. The Mouse sat down and removed the lid from her plate, practically drooling over her food. 

"Oh, my," Virgil commented. "You really are eating for two, aren't you? Good! Eat, eat!"

The brothers returned to their reading, and she dove almost face-first into the hamburger.

* * *

After lunch, Virgil insisted on taking her for a walk to his greenhouse to show her his prized roses. "Blossoms the size of your head!" he proclaimed.

He wasn't kidding. The rosebushes themselves were as tall as her, some even taller. The open blossoms looked like they could swallow your entire face if you got too close. 

In the extreme heat of the greenhouse, Virgil could finally remove his heavy coat, scarf, and gloves. He rolled up his sleeves and donned a pair of gardening gloves. The Mouse could see the extensive scar tissue on his arms, caused by years of pesticide-induced dermatitis. She couldn't imagine how painful and itchy it must have been, but he endured it all for his beloved flowers.

"Here, Alice! Look at these," he beckoned. He stood before a huge rosebush filled with bright pink roses. "This is what I have been working on. A hybrid of grandiflora rose, created by grafting the Scarlet Knight variety with the Maria Shriver variety. It makes a beautiful, fragrant flower, but this was not my intended variety. I want to create a flower that looks more like this," and he ventured farther into the greenhouse. He gestured to a smaller bush, with much smaller roses. The petals were white in the center and bright red at the tips. 

"This is the Osiria variety, created from hybrid and tea roses. It's beautiful, and the scent is divine, but it is not an easy variety to grow or keep alive. It doesn't produce many flowers, and the time to re-blossom is quite slow. I am trying to create a rose that looks and smells like this," he pointed to the smaller bush, "but behaves like those," pointing to the enormous bushes. "The Coretta Scott King rose is closer in color to Osiria, but it is too coral-pink, and I am looking to re-create the same shade of red as the Scarlet Knight. It is hard and tedious work, but I believe I'll get there one day."

"This might seem rude, and I don't mean it to be, but...why?"

He looked at her as though it was the most ridiculous question ever. "I would like to create a variety that the average gardener could grow easily. This kind of beauty should not be limited to those with the time, money, or knowledge to spend on its creation."

She smiled in response, but only out of politeness. After cleaning his rooms for years, she'd had plenty of chances to read the books he left out. He not only grew all the herbs needed for rituals, but a wide variety of poisonous and hallucinogenic plants as well. 

_Doesn't take a genius to know what those are for._

* * *

At dinner, The Mouse finally gathered the courage to address the elephant in the room.

"When is Dante coming home?"

Gio dabbed at his mouth with his napkin before putting it back on his lap. "When he is ready. But not yet. You have nothing to fear from him."

"I'm not scared of him, I just...don't know what to say to him. I mean, I broke his face. Everything got all fucked up because of me."

Virgil waved his hand. "Our little brother is wholly responsible for his own actions. If he chooses to think with his penis, which he seems to do quite often, then it's no-one's fault but his own. If he had been aware that you were blood, he never would have thought or done those things." He looked at Gio, obviously meaning that last comment as a slight against him.

"I will not apologize for wanting to keep my child close, and if that meant lying about her paternity, so be it."

"Speaking of paternity," she interjected. "Where is...you know..."

"I understand not wanting to say his name, but you will have to face Copia sooner or later," Gio stated. "He and his new ghouls are in the city for a few days, there are wardrobe fittings and interviews and promotional photoshoots. Many things to accomplish before their first performance together."

"When is their first performance?"

"About a month from now. In the meantime, there will be numerous rehearsals and logistics to be worked out prior to the start of the tour. The Cardinal will be kept very busy, and the chance of him discovering you are here is virtually none."

"Where are they performing? Maybe we could go, I'm sure we'd get VIP treatment and everything."

"The grand hall will temporarily be remodeled to hold a stage, lighting rigs, and sound equipment. We will be able to watch without leaving the building."

Her stomach churned and her palms began to sweat at the idea of seeing Copia again. It must have been apparent on her face.

"You do not have to speak to him if you do not want to, but at the very least, you should watch him perform. You may be surprised."


	10. Chapter 10

His snoring had gotten louder since she last saw him.

The Mouse sat in almost complete darkness, in what was now Copia's new bedroom, watching him sleep. She managed to wheedle the information out of Salt when he came upstairs to collect dirty dishes and linens: Copia had been moved to his own set of rooms, right off the ghoul dorms, so he could be close and get to know them better.

"You didn't hear this from me, I will totally deny it if you get caught."

After convincing her father to let her have a key to the elevator, she waited until she got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, then snuck out of her room and down to the ground floor. She managed to creep her way through the halls without being caught by sneaking Siblings or horny ghouls, and she eventually found his rooms. She put her hand on the handle, and hoped he was dumb enough to not lock it.

He was.

She tiptoed through the office into the bedroom beyond. He was still partially dressed; shirt unbuttoned, belt undone, shoes off. Starfished across his new king-sized bed with his mouth hanging open. He looked utterly exhausted, and she wanted nothing more than to tuck him in and kiss his forehead. She got as far as standing next to him before she stopped herself.

_What happens if he wakes up? That's a conversation you don't wanna have right now._

She took a seat on the bench that stretched across the front of the bed, and just watched him. His chest rose and fell with every slow breath. A loud, grating snore would interrupt the silence every few seconds. She had no idea how long she'd been sitting there, until he suddenly twitched violently and rolled over onto his side, and she glanced at his clock radio. 

It had been almost 2 hours.

She scolded herself as she crept out of the room. _I can't do this again, it's too risky. It'll only make me more miserable._

That was her mantra the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that.

She began to lose track of how many nights she sat there, watching him, and one night a hand fell on her shoulder. She managed not to scream, and turned to see her father standing behind her, in his bathrobe and slippers. He didn't look angry, just tired. She took his offered arm, and they slowly walked back to the elevator together. It took forever for the decrepit thing to start moving, and by the time it hit the second floor, she was quietly sobbing into his sleeve.

"How did you know I was there?"

"I am usually awake this time of night, and I could hear the elevator. Also, you are hopelessly in love. And pregnant. Either of those things by themselves would be enough to make someone act recklessly. And this is reckless. What if he had awoken? Have you thought about what you want to say to him?"

"Honestly, I keep getting nauseous when I think about it, so I might just vomit on him."

"A fitting response."

They stopped in front of her door, but she didn't let go of his arm. "That day in Dante's room, and later in your office...you said some pretty harsh things about me. I'm not denying they weren't true, but...do you really think that about me?"

He seemed to be thinking, but his face was emotionless as always. A stray tear escaped the corner of her eye, and he gently caught it with his thumb. "No. You are a grown woman, free to seek pleasure however and with whoever you choose. I simply wanted his attention and anger directed at me, not you or the Cardinal."

"You knew he was gonna attack Copia, right?"

He shook his head. "I knew he would confront him, sooner or later, but hopefully it would not end in bloodshed or his expulsion. You may have noticed, my younger brother has no children _yet_. Assuming there are males amongst the currently unborn, it will be decades before they are ready to lead. In the meantime, we need someone to step into the position until an Emeritus can fill it again. Believe it or not, Copia is our best bet, and I did not want to see him rendered...unable to perform."

She nodded thoughtfully. 

"Also," he continued. "I knew that you would not enter into any kind of relationship with a member of the clergy if you were not serious about them, that you understood the potential consequences and moved ahead regardless....that you must have loved him very much.

When I became angry and told you to obey your Papa, I hoped...that you would defy me. That you would not let anyone push you around like that. I was so proud." His voice hitched a little on the last word, and she decided to spare them both any further embarrassment. 

"I need to go back to sleep. Good night, Papa."

He nodded. "Good night, sweetheart."

Her head snapped up, unsure she'd heard him correctly, but he was already closing the door of his room behind him.

* * *

There was a loud commotion in the hallway, loud enough to interrupt The Mouse's speech therapy, causing her and the therapist to peek their heads out of the door in annoyance. Two ghouls were attempting to wrangle what looked like a new sofa through a door; a door which appeared to lead to a set of stairs, which she didn't even know existed.

"Wait a sec, there's stairs coming up here? I could've been using stairs this whole time?"

The ghouls looked at her, then at each other. They turned back and shrugged.

"Do you need any help?" They shook their heads.

"Are you allowed to speak to me?" They shook their heads again.

She sighed in exasperation. "I order you to answer my questions. Whose couch is that?"

They fidgeted for a second before the larger one spoke up. "It's Papa III's. He's coming home today."

A fact that apparently everybody decided to keep from her. "Great. Any idea when?"

They shook their heads yet again, their arms starting to wobble from trying to hold the sofa up.

"Ok, fine, take the thing before you drop it."

The ghouls shuffled off down the hall with the sofa, chirping at each other in their own language.

A few hours later, a piece of paper was slipped under her door.

"Dinner will be held in Papa Nihil's rooms this evening. Formal wear is required."

_Fantastic. _

She chose a floor-length black number, with an empire waist and short sleeves; it looked like something out of Titanic, but at least it hid her rapidly-expanding stomach. When she arrived at dinner, in Papa Nihil's rooms, she was greeted by her father, Virgil, and the old man himself. He'd apparently been clued into how they were related, and he seemed even more ecstatic than ever to see her.

"Topolino! My little _nipotina_! Come, sit by me, tell me how you are."

"I'm doing fine, Papa. Thank you for asking."

Her ability to speak seemed to surprise him for a moment. "See? I tell you, she can speak, she just needed the rest and hard candy. They work miracles!"

Before they could take their seats around the table, the door behind her opened, and in walked Papa III. He was the picture of opulence, with his black silk suit, designer shoes and, most importantly, his papal face paint. His older brothers had always gone for a more skull-like appearance, but his was designed to be attractive and complimentary to his features. The only difference now was, he wasn't flouncing into the room like he used to. He was more calm and respectful than she'd ever seen him. Once he saw her, his hand flew to his chest and clutched at it dramatically. It took him a moment to compose himself enough to speak.

"Dearest Alice...I am...appalled at my behavior towards you. Lust is replaced with utter shame. I understand if you do not forgive me, but I will ask it all the same." He bowed his head, waiting for her response.

"Did you apologize to Copia?"

His head snapped up. "Yes...just before I left for my...sabbatical. I embraced him as a brother, and wished him the best of luck. If he puts half his effort into Ghost as he does his other work...he will make us all proud."

She nodded in agreement. "Well...in the meantime, why don't we sit down and eat? It's not really a traditional Italian family dinner without a ridiculous amount of food, right?"

They all voiced their agreements, with Nihil exclaiming, "_Mangia_!" about 20 times before the staff put their plates on the table. Almost immediately, the three brothers fell back into the old Italian stereotypes: speaking loudly and gesticulating wildly while they ate. Most of it was in Italian, so she couldn't understand it, but they seemed...happy? About as happy as they could be, she supposed. The mad scientist, the sociopath, the addict, and their father, the zombie.

_I have no idea how I fit into this. Maybe I don't._

* * *

The day of the performance arrived and there was so much excitement, you'd have thought the devil himself was going to show up. A special afternoon Mass was scheduled, not just for all the visiting church members, but in order to ask for a blessing on the band. Papa Nihil couldn't stand up long enough to give a sermon or blessing, Virgil refused to do it, and Dante didn't feel quite ready to get behind the pulpit yet. That left Papa Gio, who felt incredibly put out because he had to paint over his mustache.

"I hate trying to get grease paint out of it, it takes forever."

"Then leave it. Call it a fashion statement," The Mouse giggled.

He responded by smearing two fingers coated in black paint across her face. “Call _that_ your fashion statement.”

She was already wound up with anxiety, and this wasn’t helping. They told her she would be sitting with Imperator and the rest of the High Clergy during the service, all of whom now knew her true parentage and weren’t crazy about their former janitor having the same level of power and respect that their positions afforded them. She decided to dress and act as conservatively and deferential as possible, so there would be no doubt that she still saw them as superiors, even if it wasn’t necessarily true.

It got even worse when she realized she would have to walk with them in the processional that began the service. Walk the entire length of the cathedral with them, where everybody could see her. She kept her head up and eyes forward, but at the periphery of her vision, she could see friends and former fuck buddies all whispering to each other.

At least some of them were understanding. When she passed Salt and the twins, they smiled and gave tiny little waves. She returned the smiles, feeling relieved, until she saw who was sitting in the pew across the aisle from her own. 

The new band ghouls. She'd seen them all before, here and there, but upon closer inspection, she realized that she'd slept with at least two of them. Multiple times.

_Awkward._

She did her best not to glance at them during the service, and focused on her father's voice instead. It was so silly in hindsight, how terrified of him she'd been as a child. His face paint was meant to inspire respect and maybe a little bit of fear, but not full-on terror. Underneath all of it, he was just a very serious man that could not show emotion, no matter how deeply he felt it. 

He raised his arms to begin the prayer asking for the Dark Lord's blessing upon the performers, and she realized she hadn't seen Copia. Shouldn't he be here for this? The rest of the band was there, so it wasn't like he was rehearsing without them.

Once the service was over, she managed to slip through the crowds and back to her rooms unnoticed. When she heard her father opening the door to his room, she ran out into the hall and confronted him.

"Why wasn't Copia at the service?"

He held the door open so she could enter behind him. He took off his mitre and set it on his desk. "He had other preparations to complete before the performance tonight. Why, were you worried?"

She shrugged.

"Worried because he was not there, or because you think this will be a disaster?"

"Six of one, half dozen of the other. I'm already having a hard time with the idea of speaking to him again, but if he completely screws the pooch? You might as well reassign him to a church in Alaska or something."

He chuckled humorlessly. "Do not think I have not considered it."

* * *

The view from the balcony at the end of the hall was amazing, probably the best vantage point to watch the show, but it only filled The Mouse with dread. If Copia failed miserably, she and her family would have a perfect view of it. They took their seats but she couldn't bear to sit down, she was far too nervous. She paced along the railing, as her father periodically checked his watch. Finally, the lights began to dim and pre-recorded music started to play over the PA. She honestly thought she was going to pass out or throw up.

An arm looped itself around her waist. Gio was now standing next to her, holding her close. "I do not want you to fall and get hurt. If you have to vomit, do it over the railing. I will make sure you do not fall."

A spotlight suddenly lit up on the right side of the stage. Copia's entrance, no doubt, and she was filled with terror.

_What if he trips and falls? What if he forgets the words? What if he just freezes up and doesn't do anything?_

Her nerves were about to eat her alive, and then there he was; strutting onto the stage, holding a microphone, in a cardinal-red suit with matching shoes. She'd heard him sing before, but that was in private and not for anyone else to hear. This was completely different.

He was _electric_.

He skipped and pranced and sauntered back and forth across the stage, his movements graceful yet powerful, not a single misstep in his choreography. His strong vibrato shook the hall and she felt it in her bones. It was very nasal, but it strangely worked well with the melodies.

_What the hell happened to him?_

She cupped a hand to her father's ear. "How long has he been taking lessons for this?"

He shook his head. "No lessons. This is all him. The talent, the passion, the desire to be seen. It was always there, he just needed an outlet."

The songs just flew by, and she was so enraptured that when the lights didn't immediately come back on to signal another song, she honestly thought the show was over.

"Was that it?" she asked Papa. He shook his head, and pointed back at the stage, which seemed to be squeaking. She turned to look, and there was Copia, in a dazzling white suit, riding what looked like an enormous tricycle. The sound was apparently coming from the PA, and was not matching with the movements of the trike. It took a few seconds before she realized that was done on purpose. Copia's over-reaction to the "gaffe" was pretty funny, but when he got off the bike, she was stunned.

It was quite obvious that there was nothing under his pants. They were so clingy and tight, there was no mistaking it. His gorgeous cock, which she had spent countless hours worshipping, was on display for anybody to see. She was almost instantly wet for him, but there was a stab of jealously in her chest. He said he'd fallen for her because of how she could be unnoticeable at will, and he wanted to be the same. Now he was literally in the spotlight, with hundreds of eyes on him, people literally screaming his name. It all suddenly felt so wrong, and she wanted to crawl under her covers and hide. 

She turned to leave when the lights went out again, and the familiar piano intro of Ghuleh started. One of her father's songs. He'd always responded with derision at his younger brother's performances of his songs, and she was suddenly curious to see how he would react this time. From what she remembered, Dante had always tried to sound just like her father, but it always came off like a poor impersonation. Copia seemed to be doing the complete opposite, making the song his own. Every few bars, she would steal a glance at Papa, and he was barely nodding his head along to the beat. For him, that was like waving his arms and screaming. By the end of the song, his foot was actually tapping. That was probably the highest compliment he could ever pay.

The show seemed to be winding down, especially after they played a very slow, melodic song, and Copia seemed to be giving a speech to introduce the last song. He seemed to be taking a page from Papa III's book, talking about it being so heavy, and there would be "wobbling asses". That meant Mummy Dust, a staple of III's time as leader. It was a very loud, very sexually-charged song, and once again, she wondered if Copia could actually pull it off. 

The way he roared at the end of the intro removed all doubt. He was growling and snarling as he walked across the stage, copying Papa III's infamous hand gestures but with more aggression than his predecessor. If he ever actually fingered someone like that, he'd probably send them to the hospital. The signature pelvic thrusts that accompanied the song were also more violent, like he was pretending to hate-fuck his imaginary partner. It was frightening but also a massive turn-on, and it seemed she wasn't the only one that thought so. Sisters in the crowd below were cheering and screaming, it was almost like Beatlemania all over again. It only got worse when the cannons perched just in front of the stage began to spew glitter and shiny confetti over the crowd. It looked beautiful, but the hysteria of the crowd was unnerving.

At least the last few songs were upbeat enough to let the crowd dance off the excess energy, so they wouldn't have to worry about fights or orgies breaking out. The performance ended with Square Hammer, the same song that began the shows during Papa III's tenure. The Mouse wondered if maybe that wasn't a slight jab at him. Then it was over, the band lining up on the stage for their final bow, with Copia in the center. They took a deep bow, with their arms around each other, and they quickly scampered away to the darkness behind the stage.

* * *

The Mouse plopped down into her seat, suddenly exhausted as the adrenaline and anxiety finally subsided. She was relieved it went so well, and her heart swelled with pride for Copia. She'd never imagined he had all of that hiding inside him, and now she wanted to congratulate him as a high-ranking church member, not as his former lover. Their personal issues could wait for a day or two.

She made her way down from the balcony, and the halls were filled with Siblings and ghouls trying to make their way to the dining hall for the afterparty. She squeezed and finagled her way through the crowd, trying to reach the other end of the concert hall. Quite a few heads turned towards her, but she ignored them. She moved past one group, and a hand shot out and grabbed her arm. It was one of the ghoulettes from the band, whose name she couldn't place at the moment.

"He knows you're here," she said. The look on her face was one of hesitation, like she was warning The Mouse about something. She gave a nod in response, and kept moving.

A few more close calls with excited Siblings and chittering ghouls, and she was finally free of the crowd. She made a couple of turns down the winding halls, and there he was, in a doorway leading to the backstage area. And he wasn't alone. There was a Sister with long black hair whispering into his ear, the red-painted nails of one hand on his shoulder and the other obviously groping at his crotch through his cassock. He seemed frozen in place, but if it was from excitement or nervousness, she couldn't tell. 

Her face suddenly grew hot with embarrassment and anger and nausea. Without thinking, she turned and headed towards the nearest door marked "exit". She shoved it open and staggered outside, into a massive downpour. It was so loud inside, she didn't hear the rain. The cold sharpness of the rain felt good, and she just stood there for a minute. Part of her wanted to cry and scream, to vomit up all her anger and sadness, but she couldn't summon the energy to do so. 

She'd completely lost track of time when she heard a loud click behind her. It didn't matter who had come through the door, she decided. She wasn't interested in speaking to anyone. 

A clawed hand gently gripped her shoulder. "Alice?" a soft voice asked. She knew that voice.

He had recently requested that everyone now call him Ember, to reflect his newfound Fire ghoul status, but she'd known him as Dewdrop since they were very little. When he was originally summoned, he presented as a Water ghoul, and was given an appropriate name. In the last few years, it became apparent that he had mixed heritage, and his Fire abilities finally surfaced. She'd told him they couldn't have sex anymore, at least not until he figured out how to keep from leaving blisters on her inner thighs. 

He pointed a finger in the air. "It's raining."

"You don't say."

He smiled at the sound of her voice, and unbuttoned his jacket. "Don't want to get sick and lose your voice." He took off the jacket and held it out to cover her shoulders. Once he got close enough to touch her, he sniffed at the air and jolted backwards.

"Wow...you're-"

"Not a single word to anyone."

He took a deep breath and nodded. Looking down, he gently dragged his claws across her belly.

"I would've given you one...if you had asked."

She smiled and placed her hand over his. "I know...but we're not that good together."

He nodded. "Fair enough."

By then the rain had almost completely soaked their clothes, and little curls of steam were starting to come off of his skin.

"Come on," she prodded. "You're missing your party."

* * *

The Mouse wrung out her dripping hair and clothes as much as possible, then headed towards the ghoul dorms. She decided to cut through one of the common rooms, as there were only a few people there, but the Sister she had seen with Copia was amongst them. She took a deep breath and clenched her fists.

_Just stay calm. Don't let her get to you, don't give her the satisfaction._

She walked into the room, trying not to notice the sudden drop in conversations as she passed through. "Copia's in his office, yeah?" she asked.

"Probably," one of the junior Sisters offered. "Hey, didn't you used to work here?"

"Yeah!" The Sister with the red nails piped up. "Didn't you used to clean toilets?" A few of the other Sisters tittered in amusement.

The Mouse stopped dead in her tracks. She turned and looked at the woman, who was sporting a smug look on her face, sitting on the arm of a sofa. She had promised Papa that she wouldn't do anything to draw unneeded attention to herself, but she couldn't resist.

"Yeah....I did." She slowly made her way to stand in front of the Sister, whose smile appeared to be slipping a little.

"B-but...I thought you couldn't talk."

"Guess again." The report of her hand smacking the woman's face echoed around the room. She fell back against the couch, a bright red mark blooming on her cheek.

The Mouse bent down so her own face was mere inches away. "Speak to me like that again, and you'll be cleaning the ghoul dorms for the rest of your days. Especially the showers. They like to clog the drains with semen. Just for fun."

She spun on her heel, and continued walking. One of the other Sisters piped up. "Hey, Mouse, what the-"

"My name is Alice," she announced as she walked through the other door, slamming it shut behind her.

* * *

The door to Copia's office was slightly open, and as she approached, she heard his voice. It seemed like he was speaking quietly to someone, and she started to lose her resolve. She didn't want to confront him with an audience, but she knew if she put this off, she'd just keep hiding from him forever. She got as close as she dared to the door, peeking around the edge.

He had his back turned, his words too quiet to understand, but he was holding a notepad and pen. He appeared to be waving them in the air, like a conductor before an orchestra. They stopped for a moment, then he scribbled something on the pad. 

He was making notes about his performance.

_What a fucking nerd._

Alice quietly covered her mouth as she felt a laugh bubble up from her chest. She knew he would take the position very seriously, but this was so....dorky. So dedicated. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

_If only he had been that dedicated to me._

She carefully pushed the door open enough to enter the room, pausing when it seemed like he might turn around. When he continued mumbling to himself, she closed the door as silently as possible. He didn't hear a thing.

It felt weird to stand there in the light, considering how many times she had been there in the dark, after he'd finally fallen asleep. This time, though, she wanted him to know she was there. She wanted so badly to spin him around, kiss him until his head swam, then drag him to his bed as she'd done months earlier.

Then she remembered her job, and how much she loved it. How he took it away from her, took away her home and her friends. This was going to be settled, one way or another.

She stood there, clothes dripping, for almost another minute before he finally turned around. She couldn't even see his face, because his hands immediately flew into the air to cover his face, throwing his pen and notepad behind him. He let out an unearthly girlish shriek, much higher-pitched than she thought he was capable of. Her annoyance managed to overpower her amusement, so at least she didn't laugh in his face.

He slowly moved his hands away from his eyes, and when he saw it was her, they immediately filled with tears. He let out a pitiful sob, reaching one hand out to her. He took a step towards her, but he stepped on the edge of his cassock and fell to his knees. He sat back on his heels, openly crying, and she gave no reaction. She just watched him. It gave her a perverse sense of pleasure to see him as hurt as she had been, but at the same time, she wanted to hold him and cry right along with him.

His sobs started to quiet down, and he finally caught his breath. He held his hand out again. "C-come here? Please?"

Her face remained emotionless. "No."

Another sob caught in his throat, and he clapped his hand over his mouth. She'd forgotten that he'd never heard her speak, as he hadn't come to the Ministry until almost a year after her accident. No wonder he was shocked.

He held his hand out yet again. "Please...come to me."

"Why?"

"I-I need you...I need to hold you..."

"And what about what I need? A job? A place to live? You took those from me," she spat, kicking a chair in his direction. He flinched, sputtering some kind of objection.

"I need to explain. Please. Papa's ghouls wanted your head, the Clergy wanted you gone. I did what I could to give us some chance of being together. If you were excommunicated, there was no chance I'd ever see you again, but if you were simply fired..."

"Then I would be stuck living with my parents for the rest of my life."

"No!" He looked up at her, his eyes red and baleful. "I planned to send for you, once things had calmed down. I knew you wouldn't say 'yes' to marrying me, but I thought we could still be together without that. And then your father came to me after the vote."

She knew he'd gone to Copia's office and heard him crying inside, but he didn't say anything else about it. "What happened?"

He sighed deeply. "He told me who you were to him, that he alone had saved you from excommunication, and my vote to fire you only proved that my devotion was to the church above all else. I insisted he was wrong, but he wouldn't hear it. He said I needed to prove myself. We went to speak to Papa III. He was...a broken man. He threw himself into my arms and begged for my forgiveness. He told me, 'I know you will make me proud. Don't let them walk all over you.' I didn't know what he meant until I went before the High Clergy, and they told me I was to lead the Ghost project for the foreseeable future. A great honor, yes, but an even greater responsibility..."

"I'm supposed to feel sorry for you because you landed your dream job in exchange for making me homeless?"

"Do you know what they did to me?!" He held his hand up as an apology, then touched the skin next to his white eye. Alice knew Clergy members had to perform some kind of ritual as a sign of devotion, and if successful, their left eye is permanently blinded. He'd already gone through that, what else was he referring to?

"They...'activated' the Eye. If one is to command ghouls in their service, one needs to be able to communicate without words. Whatever they did to me...I hear their thoughts, and they hear mine. That's how I knew you were here...they saw you during the service this afternoon, and couldn't keep it to themselves."

That would explain their seamless chemistry on stage earlier. They seemed to know exactly where to move at exactly the right times, and they didn't have time to rehearse every single step.

"It takes some...adjusting. For weeks, I couldn't be alone with my own thoughts, theirs were constantly running through my mind. After some time, I finally understood why Papa III spent so much time indulging in pleasurable distractions; he couldn't bear to hear that stream of noise every moment. I tried to think only of you, to keep them out of my head. That was how I discovered you had been with Ember...and Swiss. They were not happy with the situation either, but they knew how I felt about you. They were instrumental in teaching the others how to keep their thoughts from spilling into mine. I owe them a great debt."

She rubbed the toe of her shoe over a small scuff on the floor. "Do you want me to feel sorry for you?"

He exhaled forcefully. "I want you...to at least consider forgiving me. I've done everything I could think of to make things right, and-"

"Maybe you should've started with keeping your goddamn mouth shut in the first place. Nobody had to know. Then you dragged my ass onto a dance floor and gave everybody an eye-full. You didn't ask if I wanted that, or-"

"_What about what I want?! Was it so wrong of me to want others to see I love someone? That they love me? I am not nothing!_" He panted, out of breath and on the verge of tears again.

Alice was stunned into silence. She never thought he could actually get that angry, let alone that angry at her. "Never said you were. But there are two of us in this relationship. You should have discussed it with me first."

His chin hit his chest as he sighed. "I know. I fucked up. With everything. And I am so....so sorry. At this point, I'm willing to do anything...anything you ask, for your forgiveness."

She suddenly felt the familiar throb between her legs. His raunchy antics on stage earlier had left her wet and aching, but she had forgotten all about it in her anger. Now it was back with a vengeance. She slowly walked towards him. "Such as?"

He gazed up at her, pupils already blown. "I'll...I'll let you use my body...however you want. I've missed you so much...whatever you want, I'll do it." 

She stood before him, weighing her options. She could just leave and let him suffer, or do as he asked and use him to get herself off. Well, if he was offering...

She placed her hands on his shoulders, which were already quivering in anticipation. "On your back," she ordered. 

Once he was flat on his back, she yanked at his belt until it came undone, then unfastened his pants, plunging her hand inside. Of course he was almost completely hard. She pulled it out and began to roughly stroke it, taking a somewhat twisted pleasure in seeing how quickly it started dripping. He was already almost hyperventilating, his hands twisting and pulling at the skirt of his cassock.

"_Please...please.._" he panted, his tongue flicking out to lick at his lips. "Let me...let me make you feel good."

When she decided she'd tortured him enough, she swung her leg over his body, and unceremoniously yanked her underwear to the side. She didn't want him to know how excited she was, but that was ruined the moment she started rubbing the smooth head of his dick against her folds. It was immediately soaked and he whimpered at the feeling.

Unable to wait any longer, she guided him in, gritting her teeth at the sudden stretch. It had been too long, and she should have taken more time to prep, but she desperately needed him. 

"Fffffuck, I missed your cock," she whined. Her hips rolled in tight circles as she ground her clit against his pelvis, and she was already getting close.

"It missed you, too," he panted, desperately trying to find his way under her skirt to touch her. She slapped his hands away.

"Really," she said flatly. "It hasn't received any attention? Like from that black-haired Sister?"

He looked extremely hurt, and his eyes welled like he was going to cry again. "No. _Never_. I just-just....didn't how how to react. I'm not accustomed to that kind of...attention. At least, from someone other than you."

She sighed as she leaned back. "And why should I believe you?"

He roughly squeezed her upper thighs. "Believe me or don't, but it's yours. All of me is yours."

One glance at his face, and all her anger and resolve crumbled. She remembered their first time in the library, how he'd politely asked to cum inside her. Their one-month anniversary dinner, the lazy Sunday afternoon love-making, the way his heart pounded after she told him she loved him.

The only time he'd ever said she was his.

She was too close to stop now. She let her body move of its own accord, her hands clutching at Copia's pellegrina for balance. "Oh god-oh god-oh god I'm-fuck-I'm-"

Copia pulled her down to lay on his chest, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close. "That's it, use that cock. Fucking use me, _use me_," he growled in her ear.

The weeks of pent-up emotions, all the pain and the pleasure, suddenly came crashing down on her and she sobbed through her orgasm, her tears soaking the front of Copia's cassock. He held perfectly still, stroking her hair and letting her come down for as long as she needed.

After a minute or two, her legs started to get sore, and she pushed herself upright. Copia placed his hands on her belly to help her up, and a look of confusion crossed his face. "Wh-what's that?"

She looked down at herself, then back at him. "What's...what?"

"This!" He kept touching all over her belly, poking and prodding it. "Why is it hard? Are you wearing something under there? What is that?"

_No time like the present._

"That's...yours," she said slowly.

He looked even more confused. "My what?"

She took his hands and placed them on her stomach so he could feel the swell of belly compared to the rest of her. "That...in there...is yours."

The realization appeared to hit him like a freight train, and his mouth dropped open in shock. He let out a shaky exhale. "M-m-mine?"

She couldn't help but smile at him. "Yeah...we're both yours."

He managed to push himself up to sitting, with her belly pressed against him. She put a finger under his chin, lifting his face so their eyes could meet. His were overflowing with tears, and he let out what would have sounded like a mournful sob if he hadn't just received the best news of his life. She wiped the tears from his cheeks as he cried, kissing him all over his face. Once he finally calmed down, he managed to utter two words.

"Our baby."

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "I think it was the night we first said 'I love you'. The dates match up." 

He sighed. "I'll never forget that night. It's never felt that amazing, before or since." Suddenly, she felt his cock twitch with interest, still inside her.

"Want to try and match it?" 

* * *

Droplets of makeup-tinted sweat dripped off the tip of Copia's nose, and he did his best to lick or kiss them from Alice's skin as soon as they landed. He told her it was only fair to celebrate the momentous occasion by giving her as many orgasms as possible until he passed out.

"I can't beli-fuck-believe I got you pregnant so easily," he panted.

"Mmm, you did such a good job," she murmured. "Filled me up so nice."

"_Fuck_," he growled into her neck. "Your dirty talk will be the death of me."

She giggled. "Would you like me to stop?"

"_Don't you dare. _Your voice...does things to me." He gently rolled his hips, and she shuddered as another orgasm tore its way through her.

"That's...that's so not fair. You've gotten way too good at that."

He slowed his pace, placing his elbow next to her head and resting his head on his hand. "You know what's really not fair? Having to go on tour and leave you here alone."

"I know, but I can't be cooped up on a bus in this condition. I need exercise and a good diet, not shitty gas station food."

"I agree, you need to take care of yourself, but I will miss you so much. What will I do when I become...amorous?" 

She sighed. "I guess you'll just have to call me so I can listen while you jerk off."

He froze for a moment, then his hips resumed their movements but at a much faster pace. He began placing feverish kisses along her jaw and ear. "More...more," he grunted.

"You like that?" she cooed in his ear. "Letting me hear you make yourself cum?"

He was beyond words, a steady stream of whines and unintelligible grunts coming from his mouth.

"Maybe..." she continued. "Maybe the thought of you touching yourself...wrapping your fingers around that thick cock...getting yourself all wet...maybe it'll get me wet, too. Maybe I'll have to touch myself at the same time."

His pace started to falter, and she knew he was close. 

"Maybe....I'll take video and send it to you."

That did it. He buried his face in the pillow and roared while his orgasm wracked his body with spasms. She held him tightly, whispering praise into his ear as she felt his warmth filling her up. 

Once the aftershocks subsided, he raised his head to gasp in air, sighing happily and kissing her sweaty temple.

"Feeling better now?" she asked.

"Much, much better," he purred.

They lay catching their breath for a moment, then Copia reached over to his bedside table, grabbing a few bathroom wipes for clean-up. Once everything was tidied and freshened up, he pulled the covers back up over them, with Alice resting her head on his chest.

She draped her arm over him, reveling in his scent and the sound of his heart thumping away under her ear. 

"I love you," she murmured sleepily.

She felt his breath catch in his chest. He grabbed her chin and turned her face up towards his. "Say that again."

The fuzzy hair on his chest tickled her nose, and it made her giggle. "I love you."

"Please never stop saying that. I won't stop, either. Deal?"

"Deal."


End file.
